


she is the flint that sparks the lighter

by iPhone



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/F, I just wanted to word vomit my love for Bechloe, Mutual Pining, Pitch Perfect 3, Romance, beca and chloe dance around their feelings for each other and it's great, i love these singing idiots in love, spoilers for pp3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-02-18 23:04:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 48,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13110360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iPhone/pseuds/iPhone
Summary: Beca was looking for Chloe after her performance. She'll always be looking for Chloe in some way or another.akaBeca moves to LA to work on her new album, Chloe moves to Davis to attend vet school, and they try not to miss each other too much.





	1. oh, we’re in love aren’t we?

**Author's Note:**

> main title and chapter titles are lyrics from ed sheeran's 'hearts don't break around here'

Performing is not new to Beca.

Here are a few things that are:

The sense of loss when she feels Chloe’s warmth leave her side is frightening; the rush she gets when she runs off the stage at the end of her performance is exhilarating; the applause still ringing in her ears even when she’s ushered backstage and thrust in front of people with notepads and cameras and recording devices.

_Who is Beca Mitchell?_

She doesn’t even fucking know at this point, but she’s excited because it feels like the first real blank slate she’s had in a while.

Obviously, she can’t say that, or rather, she doesn’t know how she can possibly articulate that to the handful of strangers who are suddenly interested in what her vocal warm-up regimen is. She can’t help but think of late afternoons spent in front of whiteboards with elaborate practice schedules and work-out requirements. A brief half-smile inches across her face before she can stop it because of course, Chloe would know exactly what to say and/or do in this situation. Beca can only half-smile and stuff her hands awkwardly in her pockets, thanking the Heavens when DJ Khaled himself runs interference and reminds the hawks that they promised to save questions for after his own performance. The smile he directs at Beca is surprisingly comforting and it immediately reminds her of Barney the Dinosaur or something ridiculous, then she remembers DJ Khaled and his beautiful classical piano repertoire and reminds herself that the man is probably a genius.

She breathes a little bit and accepts the water that Turtle-Theo tosses at her. She does _not_ accept the awkward half-hug he tries to impose on her.

“Thanks,” Beca mumbles, pretending to focus on uncapping the bottle. “Hey, have you seen my friends?”

To his credit, if Theo’s disappointed, he doesn’t show it. “Yeah, of course. I think they went back to their dressing room.”

When the spotlight first descended on her, she was terrified. By the time she had finished the first verse, she knew that this was absolutely everything she wanted to do for the foreseeable future.

As long as she has The Bellas - her goddamn family - by her side, she’s sure she can do anything.

Beca does a quick check in The Bellas’ dressing room. She doesn’t bother fighting the smile that slips onto her face; smiling is second-nature since she’s been with The Bellas. She’s smiling at how everybody mingles with the familiarity of a sisterhood that only comes once in a lifetime and she’s smiling because she is so damn grateful for these moments.

However, she knows that the person she’s looking for is not there because she sees no immediately striking hair or the sound of that excitable voice she’s come to know and appreciate over the years. She flashes an apologetic smile at Fat Amy, who catches sight of her poking her head around the door. She mouths ‘Chloe’ and doesn’t wait around for the inevitable Look™ that she knows she’ll receive from her friend. As she closes the door quietly, she hears a burst of laughter from the newly-exorcised Esther, formerly Lilly, and the ensuing giggles from Flo and Cynthia Rose.

She thinks she hears Chloe’s voice around the corner. She follows it and is about to call out when she turns the corner and sees Chloe making a beeline towards Chicago. Neither of them sees her, for reasons that become obvious in a split second, and it makes every cell in Beca’s body want to shrivel up and die because of course, they don’t see her; they see each other and they’re kissing like it’s the only thing they want to do.

Beca stifles all sound and fumbles physically and emotionally. She hates feeling this uncertain and unsure, but most of all, she hates that she feels like she’s too late for something she didn’t even know she had a time limit on.

The kiss progresses because Chloe never does anything halfway and Beca has half a mind to put an end to it because Chicago was never going to be good enough for Chloe anyway. Before she can really formulate a real plan, Theo finds her again probably to formally congratulate her on a job well-done.

“That’s nice,” Theo comments when he sees where her attention is focused. Beca can’t say she entirely agrees with his judgement. She files it away in her memory since she’s his boss and all, now. They both watch the Chloe-and-Chicago show for a few seconds before Theo shifts and looks like he’s about to try the same thing on Beca, so she musters enough strength to firmly say “no” and sidestep that impending disaster.

However, the disaster in front of her is still happening and she doesn’t know what to do, so she follows Theo when he walks away.

“I wonder when that happened,” Theo says conversationally.

“I don’t know,” Beca manages.

And she really doesn’t. She doesn’t know how she missed all of this. She doesn’t know how she missed Chloe’s pining over Chicago. She doesn’t know how she missed this seemingly inevitable twist in her gut. She doesn’t know a lot of things and it makes her panic. It reminds her that she is no different than she was 5 years ago, sitting in front of complete strangers and performing a song that she learned from the internet in about five minutes.

Chloe has always made her feel like she didn’t know, but it frightens her that she finally does know something and it feels like nothing will ever happen.

She thinks of how maybe - hushed conversations in tents, gentle hands making sure she knows the right choreography, the hugs that feel like home - but maybe was never a certainty and that was probably Beca's first mistake. It was hoping against hope and refusing to just give in. She had Jesse and he was safe. He was an unexpectedly serious relationship, but still safe. They had different dreams and they wanted happiness for each other, though perhaps just not with each other in the end. Jesse is happy with his girlfriend and their dog. Maybe it was a cat? Beca's not sure. Maybe eventually an entire zoo.

It's a blissful temporary lapse as Beca's mind slips momentarily. Then she recalls that she's still glaring - staring hard - at the spectacle that she thought she walked away from. When Chloe and Chicago separate, their gazes are imbued with tenderness and affection that makes Beca shudder, then cringe because she wants to just fall straight through the floor to hell.

So she runs away.

And promptly trips over a cable.

 

* * *

 

The flight home is painful. Beca can’t quite get into a comfortable position because of her ankle and because she opted for the window seat next to Fat Amy so she wouldn’t have to look at Chloe or talk to Chloe. She leans her head on the window pane and sighs, trying to remember all the things she told Theo she’d do before setting up concrete plans to move to Los Angeles.

“Hey,” she hears over her shoulder and stiffens. “Amy, do you mind if I…?” And because Fat Amy is a traitor, she acquiesces.

Chloe is concerned because Beca is quiet - more quiet than usual. She thought Beca would be excited by this point because there had been some quiet excitement behind Beca’s eyes when she revealed that she had been handpicked by DJ Khaled himself. She did somewhat witness Beca’s disastrous fall and she knows how Beca’s pride is likely more wounded than her ankle.

Since then, Beca has barely uttered a full two sentences to her, which wouldn’t be so bad since Beca barely uttered a full two sentences to anybody else on a good day, but Chloe knows Beca like she knows all the playlists on her phone. She can practically feel the tension radiating off Beca’s tiny body in tiny waves everytime they come within touching distance of each other. While they were packing up, Beca usually just muttered “sorry” and acted as if her personal space was affronted and infiltrated even though Chloe knows that Beca’s personal space limit is a lot less. It hurts because it feels more like Beca's avoiding her and she can't fathom why, though perhaps she doesn't really want to know.

 

* * *

 

She brought it up to Chicago when they said their goodbyes with exchanged numbers and a promise to keep in touch.

"Maybe she's just sad to be leaving Europe. The time really just flew by, didn't it?"

Chloe felt like she could agree with that assessment, but her train of thought halted momentarily when Chicago kissed her once more, leaving her breathless and just the right amount of tingles in her toes. She thought there probably was a song for this on her 'many kisses later' playlist, but Beca's sudden appearance startled her right back into reality.

"Ready to go, Chlo?" Beca asked, her lips quirking at her own rhyme.

"Yeah, Bec."

Beca's face fell as suddenly as she appeared. She pursed her lips and nodded once before she turned to limp back towards where the Bellas were waiting. Chloe couldn’t help the affection that rose in her chest, barely even feeling Chicago’s heavy arm draped over her shoulders. Fat Amy caught Chloe's eye and made a crude, confusing, likely-sexual hand gesture. Chloe was satisfied to see Aubrey smacking Amy's shoulder.

"Well, I'll see you on the flip side, huh?" Chicago said quietly.

"I'll call, don't worry." And she meant it. Chicago was the fling she needed before she started vet school and found herself up to her elbows in literal and figurative crap again. Chicago was also a good friend to her over the past few weeks - the reminder that there were so many people she had to meet and friends to make; the reminder that her future would be just as bright with or without all the shortcomings.

 

* * *

 

_Shortcomings…_

Now on the plane, Chloe gazes down at the top of Beca’s head. Amy has vacated her seat and is about to leave, but not before she stares pointedly at Chloe with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Chloe has no idea what that’s about and focuses on sitting next to Beca.

“Hey,” she says. “I, um, brought you some water and painkillers, Bec.”

“Thanks, Chloe,” Beca responds tiredly. She sighs and turns to receive the items.

“No Chlo, huh?”

It’s something Beca irrevocably loves about Chloe. Her bluntness and her open emotions. It also makes Beca want to crawl inside her metaphorical shell and just blast pop-punk music until she doesn’t have to deal with these feelings anymore.

She goes for some levity. “Okay, _Chlo_. Thanks, _Chlo_.”

Chloe half slaps her shoulder, half kind of runs her palm along the skin. Beca shudders and smiles weakly, drawing up her pesky cardigan. Chloe draws her hand back immediately. Beca coughs and focuses on sipping her water and making sure she doesn’t embarrass herself by literally choking on her pill.

“How are you feeling? How’s your ankle?”

Beca shrugs trying to pull off a nonchalance that she does not feel. “I feel like a walking disaster. Or - you know, not really walking. A limping disaster.”

“You always did have a knack for being clumsy, you know.”

Beca hums and settles her gaze somewhere on the sleeve of her useless cardigan that keeps sliding off her shoulders. She just wants to look out the window and be sullen in silence.

Recalling what Chicago had said earlier, Chloe carefully asks “So are you sad to be leaving Europe, then?” She fixes her gaze on the side of Beca’s head. She is going to force a conversation out of Beca for as long as she can.

Beca closes her eyes momentarily, but not before she catches a glimpse of the clear blue skies and the sparkling ocean that both seem to just work together without even trying. Chloe’s question is innocent enough, but Beca knows she’s probably been freaking out over her behaviour.

In all honesty, Beca is a little sad to be leaving Europe. It was the perfect bubble - the home away from home - and she knows it’ll be hard to recapture the same Bella magic like that ever again, now that they’ve all got real jobs and busy lives.

She turns back to Chloe and thinks about their perfect bubble. Staying up late and coming up with ridiculous and elaborate choreography after everyone went to bed. Making fun of various European accents because she’s the asshole and half-heartedly apologizing to Chloe because Chloe’s the sweetheart with a killer look of mock-disapproval. Screaming for each other when they’re in ice-cold water, having just survived a fucking hostage situation. Beca's life needs a Lifetime movie.

So she’s not really sad to be leaving Europe, but she’s sad because once they’ve landed back in America, the bubble is officially popped and she’s got nothing to show for it while Chloe has Chicago, It feels crazy because it doesn’t feel like it matters how grateful she is for the recording contract because the person she wants to share it with the most is - well, here - but something that Beca has put off for so long that distance is all she knows anymore.

“I’m devastated,” Beca whispers. She has to whisper because raw honesty continues to physically hurt her these days. “Italy, Spain, France - it was all so…” she searches for the right word, or at least, she pretends to because she doesn’t need to search, just like the water doesn’t need to search the sky. “It was beautiful,” she says, making eye contact for the first time in what feels like weeks.

Chloe swallows hard when Beca looks away again. “It was, wasn’t it?” She feels like crying, so she just pulls out her phone. “I think I have a playlist for that,” she says quietly. And she does. It’s called “tiny feelings” and it’s all the things she's never said. She leaves a headphone by Beca's hand and settles back into her seat.

 

* * *

 

Beca is returning from grocery shopping when she overhears Chloe and Amy talking just behind their door. Their Brooklyn-apartment walls really weren’t built to sustain two of the most exuberant and lively people she knows.

“- school did you get into? You never really told us. Unless you did through a toast, which, I think you need to work on.”

Chloe’s laugh is soft and muted. Beca leans heavily against the wall. Just to catch her breath on the stairs. She _hates_ those damn stairs.

“I found out I got into a couple actually. There’s one - Cornell - in upstate New York, the first one that responded to me. And of course, the one I'm really thinking about - UC Davis.”

Amy makes a shrill whistling noise. “Coming from the girl who failed Russian Lit _three_ times?” That makes Beca smile.

“Amy, do you actually know what my major was? Anyway, you're all going to have to visit me regardless. Chicago said that he’d love to visit, no matter which school I pick.”

“I’m sure he’s not looking to get the scenic tour, Chloe.”

Chloe’s laugh floats away with their conversation as they move further into the apartment.

Inside, Chloe smacks Amy’s shoulder lightly. “Stop that. He’s been a good friend. I want it to stay that way.” Chloe continues searching for her favourite scarf. “Everybody’s going their separate ways, you know. And - and you and Beca have...well, each other.”

Amy snorts. “Beca might be my best friend, but-” The front door lock clicks. “Speaking of.”

Chloe lights up immediately. She drops the hamper of dirty clothes she was sifting through and nearly vault leaps over a pile of Amy’s clothes. “Beca! You’re home,” she sings. Beca is carefully putting eggs into the refrigerator when Chloe props her chin on Beca’s shoulder. “What did you get?”

Beca does an awkward half spin and side-step to get to her bag of groceries. “We were out of milk. Also,” she continues, pulling out a small jar. I know you mentioned that your throat was sore lately, so I got some honey, just, you know, so you…” she trails off when she sees Chloe’s expression. She’s jarred by how much it feels like looking in a mirror. Appreciation, affection - and more, _God_ , so much more - just rolled into one, fleeting expression. “It’s...whatever,” she mutters.

Chloe hugs the bottle to her chest like the dork she is and plops on Beca’s bed - their bed, really, but definitely Beca's _side_ - because she has one satanic roommate who fashioned a "bedroom" adjacent to the kitchen.

As she looks on, Chloe making herself comfortable as she always does on Beca’s side of the bed, she lets her last two words echo uselessly in her head and sinks into a memory for a moment. 

 

* * *

 

_The first time it happens is startling for Beca. She’s just about to doze off after a long day of work, figuring out how to get their landlord to fix their broken pipe, and simply making sure that Amy knew how to use subway system around New York City._

_She reminds herself that her shiny new job is going to rock. It has_ _to_ , _because this apartment is fucking expensive and she's a girl with bills to pay._

_She’s just about to succumb to sleep when there’s a clatter, followed by a loudly-whispered “shit!” from the kitchen. The sounds come from just a few feet away from their bed. She recognizes that voice and sits up._

_“What the hell, Chlo?”_

_“Oh. Hey Bec,” Chloe responds, bright smile illuminated by the tiny glow of the fridge._

_Beca scowls at the back of Chloe’s head when she turns back to the fridge. “Can I help you with something? Accelerate your process?”_

_Chloe pulls out the jug of milk that is definitely larger than her head. “No, I’m good. What are you doing up?” she asks obliviously. Obviously._

_Beca flops back down on the bed. “I was just waiting for the sleep demons to claim me. God. Why are you up?”_

_“...It’s like 9 o’clock, Beca,” Chloe says, in a tone that implies she’s going to lecture Beca about the merits of staying up at ungodly hours. She drinks her glass of milk and pours herself another one. “I’m just so -” she sighs happily. “It’s New York, you know? I feel like I’ve always wanted to be here. I’m meant to be here. Maybe not working as an intern at a sketchy animal hospital, but you know. Here.” She climbs into their bed - the fact that it's_  their _bed still shocks Beca -_ and _sets her glass down on the bedside table._

 _“Oh, ok, you’re just gonna - yep. Geez, Chlo," she complains half-heartedly when Chloe forcibly cuddles against her, taking up space near the center of the bed as opposed to her own side_ _._

_“I’m glad you’re here, Bec,” Chloe whispers, settling her head on Beca’s shoulder. "I'm glad we're here."_

_Beca doesn’t know what she can really say to that. She struggles with whether she should lean her head back against Chloe’s in return, so she kinda spasms into a half shrug that briefly dislodges Chloe._

_But she settles back down anyway and they spend two and a half hours gossiping about their favourite celebrities (read: Chloe’s favourite celebrities)._

_As Beca’s about to finally - finally - fall asleep, Chloe slides an arm around her middle and presses her forehead against Beca’s shoulder. It makes Beca’s eyes pop wide open and her breathing stop momentarily. She doesn’t know if Chloe even realizes it, because Chloe’s suddenly mumbling, sleepily “It’s you and me, isn’t it? Aren’t you excited to be here? You’re going to kill it at your new job. I know it.”_

_It’s stilted and slow, but it sounds as sure as Chloe could ever sound. Chloe's confidence in Beca has always been frighteningly steady._

_“I...I think I’m happier than I even understand, right now,” Beca says, staring up at the ceiling._

_Chloe is asleep._

 

* * *

 

It isn’t “whatever” and it has _never_ been "whatever" between them.

That’s what scares her the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, thank you for reading!! I'm a long-time AO3 and Pitch Perfect fandom lurker. I haven't written serious fic for any fandom since like...2013, which is really crazy because I'm an English major. Anyway, I just really adore Bechloe with all my heart, so I wanted to share this story that has been on my mind since I watched PP3 on Thursday. I, with the help of my fellow Bechloe/Pitch Perfect trash friend, drafted a 10-chapter fic. So here we are.


	2. she is the river

Beca knows shockingly little about DJ Khaled, for somebody who is in her chosen profession. She is pleasantly surprised to find out that he lives in California so she wouldn’t have to worry about getting into contact with him or working long-distance if she moved to California, which is something she’s been dreaming about since she picked out her first soundboard.

She does some preliminary scrolling through housing websites and each website feels like a heart attack waiting to happen. The prices are high - higher than she expects - but she supposes that their New York apartment was a little bit of a steal.

Since they’ve gotten back from Europe, Theo has taken it upon himself to call Beca frequently. It’d be annoying because Beca hates talking on the phone and if Beca weren’t so concerned with the fact that blowing him off might be a literal missed job opportunity.

“What was wrong with the vocal mix I sent you?” she demands heatedly.

Theo chuckles in that infuriatingly calm way. “Nothing, technically. But it needs some tweaks. I’ll send you the notes and we can talk more about it later. I promise it won’t be past your bedtime, this time around."

Beca’s ears heat. “I could fire you,” she snarks.

“I mean, you can’t. Not yet, technically.”

“Once I get to California, we’ll see.”

“If you ever do,” Theo says cheerfully. She hates him.

Beca hangs up and returns to her meditation.

There is no ‘if’ anymore about moving to California. Beca has made peace with the fact that she’s leaving yet another home, but she can’t help but look forward to what this next city brings.

Also, it’s not that she’s worried about missing The Bellas just yet. It’s not that she’s trying to escape, but she figured she’d have some time to herself. Unfortunately, life has other plans, as always.

“When are you leaving me?” Chloe asks, dramatically flopping onto Beca’s bed one afternoon. It’s so sudden and startles Beca. She curses when her hand slips and she causes the entire Jenga tower to come crashing down. So much for meditation.

Beca points grumpily at her tower. “Now,” she mutters. Her fault for playing alone in the kitchen. “What do you mean when am I leaving you?” she asks, twisting to face Chloe, who hushes her, suddenly engrossed in something on her phone. Beca rolls her eyes. She pulls out her phone to send a Snap to Amy, already trying to think of a sarcastic caption. "Don't you two have your own rooms," she mutters. "Oh wait, nobody has rooms in this damn apartment," she continues sarcastically, though she doesn't feel particularly snappish. The photo she ends up taking is one of Chloe reclining, ankles crossed, and mid-laugh (which is confusing to Beca because she doesn’t recall that any of their friends are that funny by any stretch of the imagination - definitely not Aubrey). The glow of Beca's lamp is casting the best shadows across Chloe's face. She makes sure to save a copy of the photo and deliberates whether she even needs to send it to Amy. She decides that it's not necessary because Amy knows that Chloe's a bed-hogger anyway.

Chloe happily tosses her phone on the bedspread and spreads out. “When are you flying out? Have you found a place yet?”

“Not yet. Theo’s been trying to set up some housing stuff for me. They want me to be comfortable, apparently.”

Chloe’s nose crinkles at the thought. “You’re not going to live with him, are you?”

“I’d die first,” Beca replies, mostly serious. “I’m probably gonna go it alone for a bit. It’ll be fun,” she says, shrugging.

“I’m going to UC, you know,” Chloe says casually. “If it weren’t so far away, we could live together again.”

This is news to Beca. "You're not staying in the wonderful state of New York?"

"Nope. I'm taking Davis up on their funding offer."

"You are?" Beca tilts her head. "I thought you were really excited about that other pretentious, stuffy school. The one that called you while we were on the tour."

"I am...but, UC Davis is a really good school too." She smiles and stands up. "And of course it'll be closer to you," she sing-songs, tapping Beca on the nose.

Beca squirms away. "But - wait - was it even your first choice?" _Am I?_ It makes her heart pound. Chloe is just, well, Chloe, and Beca doesn’t even know if Chloe realizes how much her actions make Beca want to crawl out of her own skin in the best way possible. All she's ever wanted is to be close to Chloe, a desire that has always been halted by her own fear and insecurities. Chloe makes her become the best version of herself in every situation. It would be amazing to have a friend there. It would be even more amazing to have Chloe there.

"Bec, I'm not settling, if that's what you're asking.” It’s not, but Beca supposes that’s better. “Trust me. They're both good schools." Chloe sighs and drapes her arms over Beca's shoulders, planting her chin on the top of Beca's head. "It's not like I'm moving next door to you. You're still going to be a million miles away." Chloe's scent envelops her like a blanket; it makes her feel warmth everywhere and makes her mind hazy for a moment.

It's not a million miles no matter how much it feels like it. Beca closes her eyes. Chloe in California. She lifts a hand tentatively to grip Chloe's forearm. "It wouldn't be so bad," she admits. "I can't believe you're going to vet school," she says, going for a change in topic.

"Most people don't believe it," Chloe says lightly. She takes her weight off Beca's back and shoulders. "Chicago seemed surprised."

It has been happening with increasing frequency. Chloe talking about Chicago. Chloe talking to Chicago. Beca is starting to actually hate everything related to Chicago-the-city as well.

 _Of course, Chicago was surprised_ , Beca thinks savagely. He wouldn't know anything substantial about Chloe if it hit him across the face with a plank. Beca becomes sullen, which has also been happening with increasing frequency - more so than usual anyway. It's…interesting…but also has been starting to get on Chloe’s nerves a little bit. Not in a bad way though, just that the frequency of her gaze slipping to Beca’s lips has skyrocketed.

"Chicago," Beca repeats.

Chloe is always surprised at how much derision Beca can hold in her tiny body. “You don’t even know him, Bec.”

“What’s there to know? Why do I need to know anything? What do you even see in him?” Beca asks, unable to keep the slightly petulant tone out of her voice. She forces her face to remain passive. “His name alone is...stupid.” Beca’s jealousy has the charm of a toddler.

“It’s unique,” Chloe defends. She leaves it at that because she knows Beca and her tendency to close off if she feels uncomfortable. “We’re just friends, Bec,” she says softly. She decides that she doesn't need to explain herself or why Chicago was the perfect distraction during their Europe trip. She doesn't even think Beca would remember or care about the reason, but she's just so tired of waiting for some kind of closure. At the same time, she knows that only time will tell where she and Beca end up. So she's content with continuing to get to know Beca, even though she's gotten to know Beca over the past seven years pretty well already. She wants something more.

"Sorry," Beca apologizes. She does feel bad because she believes Chloe when she says they're just friends. But she knows they weren't just friends in Europe and it's another reminder of everything that happened at the end of that trip. Her gaze slips automatically to the pout Chloe’s sporting.

Chloe grins a little at that. "It's alright to be jealous, Bec," she says confidently. Beca, predictably, squawks, which is what Chloe was going for, so she floats off, laughing. That’s how it always ends, with their relationship somewhere in that liminal space, neither returning or progressing forward.

Amy returns then just as Chloe’s room door shuts. Beca scowls at the table as Amy settles in the seat across from her.

"I..." Beca groans in frustration and runs her fingers through her hair. "What is it about Chicago?"

"Well, the deep-dish pizza there is quite the treat and I think there's-"

"No," Beca says impatiently and gesturing awkwardly with her hands. "I meant that dude. That guy. You know. Chloe's guy."

"Chloe's guy?" Amy looks puzzled. "I thought y - Oh. Oh. Him. Yes, him."

"Your one-word syllables are inspiring." Beca listens for the sound of the shower running. “He was okay-looking.”

Amy's expression shifts into one of mischief as it dawns on her. "Man candy, that one," she drawls.

"He's pretty lame, right? Like, nobody named Chicago could be, I don't know, cool."

“I’d eat him up as a midnight snack.”

“His name could have literally been anything else.”

“Boy, you did not want to be sharing a wall with Chloe in that hotel.”

Beca feels ill when she checks back into the conversation. “Why - why would you think I want to hear that? Nobody wants to hear that!”

Amy just gives her a sympathetic look. "You're cool too, Beca."

“He’s not good enough for her,” Beca mumbles, mostly to herself. “He’s so far away, anyway.”

"Well, if you move to Los Angeles, you'll never have to worry about Chicago," Amy says, half-joking.

Beca can't help but think that Amy's probably right, but she feels anxiety creep up and settling somewhere in the back of her neck.

Oh, never mind, she’s just flushed.

 

* * *

 

  
_**The Night They Decide to Do the USO Tour (3 months ago)** _

Beca follows Chloe into the washroom. She grimaces when her eyes attempt to adjust to the even dimmer lights. She steps in at least twenty questionable liquids and items as she walks towards where Chloe is hunched over in front of a mirror.

“Chlo?”

It startles Chloe. She had been collecting her thoughts and trying to stop the alcohol-driven tears from ruining more of her make-up. Beca’s voice rings clearly through the otherwise empty bathroom.

“I’m fine,” she says quickly. “I’m fine. Just...fixing my makeup.”

“I can see that,” Beca replies lightly. She leans on the sink next to Chloe. “Chlo, you had like five shots. Are you sure you don’t want to go home?” She reaches out to rub Chloe’s shoulder comfortingly.

“No,” Chloe says quietly. She leans into Beca’s touch. “I’m just...I’m so happy to see everybody again. To catch up.”

Beca is quiet, save for the sounds her heel makes as she clicks her foot against the floor. “I...know how much this means to you. Seeing everybody again. The Bellas. I’m glad Aubrey suggested that tour...thing. I hope you find what you’re looking for.” She takes her hand off Chloe’s shoulder.

Chloe sighs and tosses her tissue into the trash. She can’t help but smile, though, because “Wow, that sounded almost like a full paragraph, Bec. Are you maybe a little drunk too?”

“Shut up. Stop. I’m not.”

Chloe giggles. Beca smiles, so Chloe refrains from suggesting that they sing about their feelings.

“I am happy, you know,” she says instead, turning to face Beca fully. Beca meets her gaze and nods, which spurs Chloe on. “It’s just...overwhelming sometimes. I’m scared about the future. Whether I’ll get into vet school. Whether we’ll keep in touch. All of us,” Chloe clarifies quickly. She likes it when Beca gives her all her attention. It's not that it's rare, but getting Beca to just exist with her and be with her is a blessing in every way. She bites her lip. “Whether I’ll ever find a boyfriend again,” she says, letting it trail off and focusing on Beca’s expression.

A split-second shadow drops across Beca’s face before she’s clearing her throat and tucking her hair behind her ears. It’s a nervous habit, Chloe knows. “Everything will work out,” Beca says quietly. “Even that, uh, boyfriend thing. But, you know, no rush, I guess.”

When Chloe drinks, she doesn’t actually throw up, but she word vomits instead. “And you?” she asks before Beca can retreat; before she herself can even think about what she’s asking; before she can stop herself because she doesn’t want to stop herself.

Beca’s heart thuds. All her mental processes are going towards making sure she doesn’t have a literal heart attack, so her mouth just quirks uselessly. This weird dance she and Chloe have been doing is tiring and takes a toll on her stamina, but the fact that it’s Chloe makes it all the more easier. But still “I’m definitely over Jesse,” is what comes out of her mouth.

Chloe’s lips quirk into a smile that shatters Beca a little on the inside. It’s the kind of smile people write songs about because they were dumbasses.

“I don’t know what I’m saying anymore,” Chloe says. Something else passes over Beca’s face, but she doesn’t want to read into it. Not now. Not when she’s about to go to Europe and sing with her family. She doesn’t know if she can handle flat out rejection. “Sorry about all this,” she says hastily, gesturing at her face. It feels less puffy than earlier.

“You’ve, um, you missed a spot,” Beca says because she can’t help herself. She takes a wobbly step closer. “Here.”

“Where?” Chloe asks dumbly because Beca’s suddenly closer than she’s ever been - and - and she’s actually using that perfume that Chloe got her for her birthday.

“Here,” Beca repeats, and uses her thumb to gently swipe at the edge of her eye. Touching Chloe in any way has always been akin to climbing a mountain for Beca: it is so excruciatingly difficult to make herself attempt that uphill battle, but she knows that it’s worth it in the end. It makes all the work she puts into, well, being Beca seem worth it because Chloe’s always been the only person who understands her.

Chloe’s world spins right then and there. Beca’s thumb slides down her cheek slowly - God, it’s slow - and drops back down to her side.

“Did you get it all?” Chloe can’t help but ask.

“I think so,” Beca says, all whispery and gentle.

It makes Chloe swoon internally. Despite Beca’s aloofness with words, her actions have always spoken louder than anything. Maybe not singing, though. “Are you sure?” Chloe pushes, not even sure what she’s asking anymore.

Beca’s not mentally or emotionally sure about anything anymore, but her body seems to be sure because she’s lifting her hand again and Chloe bites her lower lip and-

The door slams open. “Beca? Chloe? Where are you guys? Aubrey’s trying to show us some military drills and there’s no way you’re going to get out of this. Stop making out and get your asses out here,” Fat Amy yells.

Chloe blinks and she’s already looking at the back of Beca’s head - Beca, who is halfway across the room turns to shrug her shoulder at Chloe. “Come on, Chlo. Can’t keep the cavalry waiting.”

“I - yeah. Alright.” She turns back to the sink and runs her hands under the blissfully cold water.

She needs somebody. Anybody.

 

* * *

 

  
**_Brooklyn NY (Present)_ **

It’s slow at first, riddled with jokes from Chloe and Amy about why she’s still there, when she should be out in Los Angeles making music.

Then it’s fast. It’s faster than a blink. Beca’s suddenly saddled with figuring out how to pack up her life for the past two years to move across the country within the week. She is a constant storm of muttered curses and frazzled confusion when she finds out that both Amy and Chloe have been borrowing her clothes.

It's the blank slate Beca needs now more than ever. She snatches up the first housing offer Theo fires off at her through the phone and packs up her essentials. She makes sure her share of the rent is paid for the next month at least and begins to say goodbye to her Brooklyn home.

She starts with Amy. “I’ve left some twenty-dollar bills in that drawer, so you can continue stealing from me.”

“Beca, you’re honestly the best person I’ve ever met. Crush them.”

Beca bows solemnly. "I will do my best."

It’s easy because Amy’s presence will always be a constant in Beca’s life. She knows that like she knows the back of her own hand.

Chloe’s not home from work yet. It’s a brief moment of reprieve because she knows Chloe will likely cry.

When Chloe does get home, she is excitedly pulling Beca to sit at the small makeshift desk they squared off in the corner for work because she heard a song come up on shuffle that she thinks Beca will really like. It’s tradition now – Chloe will find a song that she thinks Beca will enjoy and Beca will end up using it in a mix or mash-up just for kicks. The cycle continues when Beca inevitably uses a song that Chloe doesn’t know, which makes Chloe even more excited about the prospect of new music.

“What do you think about this song?” It’s good. It’s a new song featuring Kehlani and something that Beca can definitely work with. Mixing mash-ups has always been her favourite hobby, but it has only grown to be something she truly loves and finds joy in, mostly because it makes her feel that much more connected to Chloe when moments like this happen.

“I like it,” Beca says. She sighs, leaning back in the chair, taking in the messy posters and photos plastering the walls. The home they've created together.

Beca thinks about her choices.

She thinks she should talk to Chloe about everything before she bursts from emotional overspill. Chloe loves talking, so she’d be open. She's also unashamedly still bitter about Chicago, so she files it all inside her overflowing emotional cabinet and decides to deal with it when she's alone in sunny Los Angeles.

Sunny Los Angeles, which is blissfully and painfully 400 miles away from the University of California, Davis.

So, she steels herself and prepares instead to tell Chloe that she’s leaving.

“I’m leaving next week.”

Chloe stops humming. “Wait, already?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…earlier than I thought.” Chloe leans against her desk. “You found a place, then?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s...great.”

“Yeah,” Beca says dumbly.

Chloe kicks the chair gently. “Hey,” she says quietly. “I’m going to miss you. You know that, right?” Chloe means it. She’s so ridiculously proud of Beca. It fills her to the brim and she swells with simultaneous happiness and sadness, but Chloe has never been selfish. “I am so proud of you. I hope you know that.”

A slew of words threaten to escape Beca’s traitorous mouth. Words like “come with me” and “I don’t want to go” and “call me every day because I don’t think I can go twenty-four hours without hearing your voice.”

Instead, she says “yeah” and decides to hate herself for it later. She’s every love song cliché, but she’s not sure whether anybody knows what ending is in store for her.

There are no tears. Chloe just holds her hand - laces their fingers together - and they settle down for a quiet movie night.

 

* * *

 

The day finally arrives and Beca has two gigantic suitcases filled to the brim with clothes and belongings she didn’t even know she owned. Probably because her roommates are thieves.  
  
“Those suitcases are half your height,” Aubrey says observantly. Emily grins. Beca hates tall people.  
  
Aubrey and Emily are visiting New York for the week. It coincided with sending Beca off, so they come bearing coffee and donuts for a quick get-together at the airport. Beca’s grateful that they’re there because Chloe consistently looks like she’s about to cry.  
  
Emily is currently talking about touring NYU and listing it as a potential graduate school since her GREs went extremely well.  
  
“I’m really proud of you, Legacy,” Beca says once Emily is finished. Emily beams at her, Aubrey smiles in agreement, and Chloe looks like she’s on the verge of tears again.  
  
“How about school in California?” Aubrey teases.  
  
Emily smiles slyly at Beca. “I know Beca is doing her best to get rid of all of us, so I won’t torture her with the idea of that. Not yet, at least. Maybe for a PhD.”  
  
Beca sticks her tongue out at her. “I’m not trying to get rid of you. I love you nerds. Even Aubrey.”  
  
Chloe leans heavily against Aubrey’s shoulder, simply enjoying Beca’s company before she has to leave. She’s going to miss Beca’s ridiculous sleep schedule, even when she was jobless. She’s going to miss Beca restocking on milk or honey for her. She’s also going to miss the way Beca casually steals her hoodies off her bedroom hook and how she pretends not to notice. She’s going to miss the way Beca looks in her hoodies.  
  
“When are you going to be heading out?” she asks quietly.  
  
At that exact moment, Beca’s phone chirps. “Oh,” Beca utters sheepishly. “Now, I guess.” She slings her bag over her shoulder. “I’m going to really miss you guys."  
  
Chloe hangs back as Emily and Aubrey give Beca quick hugs and well-wishes. When Beca turns to her, the background sound seems to drop away. Chloe has watched enough movies to know what happens next. She knows Beca’s movie education is obviously still lacking a little, but she has to know too, right?

But this isn’t a movie, so she manages a quick hug and a peck to Beca’s cheek because for all her bravado, she’s still afraid of losing Beca.  
  
“I should go,” Beca says. “My gate’s right there,” she says and gestures unnecessarily. Chloe has lingered even though Emily and Aubrey have strolled away. When Chloe turns to Aubrey, the look Aubrey gives her is a mixture of dictator and disappointment. Oh God.  
  
Chloe turns abruptly back to Beca and says “wait,” louder than she wants to. Beca stops, turning uncertainly. “I – I know you stole my scarf,” she blurts. It has to be Beca. She knows because she steals Beca’s stuff all the time. This is also not the time and she has no idea what she’s saying anymore.  
  
Beca’s eyes widen. “What?” She wasn’t quite expecting that. She also has no idea what Chloe is talking about. Then, Chloe bites her lip and her eyes glisten. The effect is devastating. Beca feels like she’s about to keel over. It also might be because her duffel bag is exceptionally heavy from her portable mixboard. She settles her bag down carefully before awkwardly lifting her arms. “Come here,” she whispers in the sappiest tone she’s ever heard herself use.  
  
Chloe thinks that it’s so unfair that Beca fits so perfectly in her arms. She wonders if she should have been braver. More obvious.  
  
Beca doesn’t like it when people hug her so hard that it feels like her organs are about to cave in, but when Chloe hugs her that way, she can’t help but settle into her arms. Chloe’s hugs have always made her feel like she matters as much as the other person in the hug, as opposed to people finding it hilarious that her small size means people can envelop her and swallow her whole.  
  
Beca thinks it’s crazy that her entire life has felt like the world has been trying to swallow her whole, but she’s finally moving to California to make music and she’s...well, there’s Chloe, whose arms feel like the only home she’ll ever need.  
  
She also definitely did steal Chloe’s scarf, but only so she can wrap herself in it when she feels alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! I am going to be watching PP3 for a third time tomorrow afternoon, then I’ll be travelling for a few days. I should be able to churn out at least one more chapter before this year ends. Thanks for joining me on this journey!


	3. you know hearts don't break around here

Chloe Beale doesn't do anything half-assed. When she first committed to The Bellas in her freshman year, she knew she wanted to one-day be the leader of this group and bring them to new heights. She became fast friends with Aubrey, another freshman, and that was that.

At least, it was _that_ , until she met Beca Mitchell. Now, as Chloe thinks back to first meeting Beca, she's completely in awe at how much Beca is a part of her life, but she supposes it feels as inevitable as Taylor Swift releasing a song about love. Even just imagining and thinking about not having Beca in her life makes her nauseous.

She supposes that she doesn’t _have_ Beca in any sense of the word currently since she’s stuck in New York for the next little while and Beca is across the country, three time zones away, and barely responding to any of her messages. Chloe’s mind frequently wanders and she finds herself Googling flights more and more often and what Beca would do if she just showed up and _did something_. Anything. 

It breaks Chloe a little because she has an  _inkling_ as to why, but the fact that Beca hasn’t talked to her about it only makes her want to crawl into her sheets and lie there for days at a time. She thought that they were verging on something more, but she knows that distance is intimidating to Beca because she's tried it and it _didn't work_. She supposes she could talk to Beca, but talking to Beca about feelings is akin to prodding her with a hot poker and she doesn’t want to give Beca even more reason to not message her. She understands the first month of settling in and making sure that everything’s in order, but after that, there has to be some leeway, right? Instead, she gets to stare forlornly at the _Delivered_ notification under her latest text (‘ _hi, I miss you_ ’ - a watered down version from ‘ _hi Beca, I miss the sound of your voice and your witty quips and the way I can prop my head on top of yours when you’re working on a mix_ ’), willing a response to come. 

It usually takes a couple days for Beca to respond, with something lackluster and too generally cheery for Chloe to consider it 'real' by any stretch of the imagination.

(' _California is great! It feels surreal every day. Really hot too. I've been so busy with meetings and signings and just getting my bearings!_ ' Chloe scowls at this message because Beca would never use two exclamation marks in the same text message.)

She’s about two and a half weeks into her moping (a month and twenty days since Beca left) when Amy forcefully pulls her out of her misery. “Chloe,” Fat Amy says sternly. “You’ve called in sick two out of three days this week already.” Chloe scowls into her pillow because that’s obvious; of course, she knows - she was the one who called. “You need to get up.” Chloe doesn’t know that she _needs_ to do that, but she supposes that the fact that Amy is now pulling her legs towards the edge of the bed means that she has to get up. 

“I’m sick,” she says unconvincingly. 

“Yeah, lovesick,” Amy mutters, sorting through Chloe’s closet and tossing clothes on the bed. Chloe barely has time to register that because Amy exits, tossing “Get dressed, I’m taking you out for lunch, Ginger,” over her shoulder.

Chloe remembers calling in sick early in the morning, so the fact that it’s lunchtime means that she’s been lying in bed since her alarm went off for at least five hours. “Fine,” she says quietly. “But I’m not happy about it,” she calls out with a raised voice as she puts on the clothes.

She can’t help but squeeze Amy into a quick side-hug when they enter the crowded subway car because Amy could probably be anywhere in the world right now and she chooses to stay with Chloe even though Chloe has basically checked out emotionally and mentally. "Thank you," she says sincerely. "For everything, by the way."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Amy says nonchalantly, followed by “I have a surprise for you, by the way,” once they’ve settled in their subway seats. 

“You do?” Chloe looks at Amy expectantly, as if she’s going to pull it out of her handbag. 

“It’s not here. It’s at the restaurant,” Amy sing-songs loudly.

Chloe has to bite her tongue because her follow-up question was going to be ‘is it Beca?’ but she thinks Amy might punch her for that. She’s not blind or deaf. Amy has been dropping hints that she thinks she and Beca are a "pair of idiots" (she had actually straight up said that to Chloe one evening when she caught Chloe sneaking back into her room after falling asleep in Beca's bed again) for the past year at least and maybe even more if Chloe wants to look back through their time at Barden.

When they get to the restaurant, it’s not Beca. It’s not even another Bella.

It’s Chicago. It’s Chicago and he’s sifting through a menu, sitting right by the window. It’s Chicago and he’s dressed casually in a leather jacket and dark-wash jeans. It makes Chloe choke because she loves that outfit, but it's Chicago.

It’s Chicago and he’s not Beca.

“You brought Chicago here?” Chloe hisses, grabbing Amy’s arm to stop her in her tracks. “I take back that hug, you devious meddler. How did you even -” 

“I have my ways. And my money.” Amy grabs her by the shoulders to steady her. “Listen, I think you need to reevaluate everything you think you’re waiting for. I don’t want to see your skinny little body waste away into nothing. Then there’ll be nothing left for...” she trails off, meeting Chloe’s eyes. “For when you finally go to California.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chloe mutters. She shrugs off Amy’s hands and focuses back on Chicago’s profile through the window. “Why do you think this is a good idea in any way?” she asks softly. “I’m not ready for anything serious, not with anybody that...” She sucks in a breath. She can barely finish that line of thinking without feeling her chest tighten. It's the first time she's talked about this aloud with somebody in what feels like forever. The first time was a drunken ramble at Aubrey's house over one summer. 

“That’s OK,” Amy says with uncharacteristic gentleness.

Chicago’s visit is refreshing for many reasons. He's just as good-looking as Chloe remembers - easy on the eyes and mind. They catch up casually over coffee where she learns that he's hanging around for a week at least. She apologizes for not keeping in contact as much as she would have liked, establishes that they're still  _friends_ , though he seems to hint that he wants something more. It's more like a blatant hand straight on her thigh over their second glass of wine.

Chloe's physical nature has helped make her extremely comfortable with sex over the years, though she's always been careful about intimacy. So Chicago's presence is a welcomed distraction, though she’s still upset that Amy springs that on her without warning. She gets back at her with Chicago’s help. Many nights in a row.

(Sometimes she imagines it's Beca she's kissing, but that's all she allows herself because she wants it _all -_ the strings, the late-night talks, the lazy mornings - with Beca and imagining _that_ just makes her want to cry.)

When he leaves, she feels like things are even murkier than they were before she left. She doesn’t want to filter through that so she lets him kiss her gently and tenderly at her front door, heavy duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a military cap on his head. He promises to call her more often, thanks her for being wonderful or beautiful or something else vaguely flattering. It’s a dream that she might have had once, a lifetime ago. He's tall, solid, and he cares for her in a way she doesn't want to think about reciprocating. But he's  _possible_ and  _there_. While his departure - a smile, tilt of his head, hoisting his bag further up his shoulder - doesn’t make her swoon, it briefly gives her a reprieve from the abyss she's been allowing herself to get sucked into. 

After that, she tries, she really does. She cuts her imagination as much as possible. She continues exchanging sparse messages with Beca. It's fine for the first little while because she can handle the distance with Chicago. They call and talk and he visits once more within the following month. She catches Amy smiling smugly at her occasionally when they bump into each other in the morning, but Beca has a way of weaselling her way back into her life when she least expects it.

Chloe had set up a Google alert for Beca's name somewhat as a joke all those months ago, but she's forgotten about it. It carries Beca back into her life like a fucking tsunami when she sees that Beca was mentioned in a photo set of celebrities attending some "lowkey" event at a fancy club in Los Angeles. Beca's in a few photos, standing awkwardly next to a few other celebrities that Chloe recognizes by face only. It's  _cool_ , is all Chloe can think. Beca's clearly making an impact and making connections.

She saves a few photos to her phone and contemplates sending them to Beca with excited questions and inquiries. She decides against it for the time being because in her last message, Beca had mentioned putting in a lot of studio time over the next little while and she knows how focused Beca can get.

But, God, she's just so proud.

She says as much to Chicago during their phone date. 

It doesn't occur to her that things aren't really working out with Chicago because Chloe's still hung up on Beca and he tells her that, interrupting her diatribe about Beca's emotional bandwidth.

"I really like you," Chicago drawls. "But you seem really in love with this Beca girl."

Hearing it laid out like that makes her heart stop. "I..." she feels like she's being tortured. "You've met her," Chloe says, going for an incredulous inflexion in her tone. "She was there for the whole USO tour."

He laughs, his easy-going nature shining through. "It's not about whether I've  _met_ her, it's about the fact that if she were a dude, I'd probably punch her, you know? Or something equally chivalrous and caveman-like," he jokes. 

Her throat constricts. "I didn't..."

"Please don't take this the wrong way and _please_  correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think it's that you genuinely are unaware of your own feelings," he says patiently, not sounding like he's particularly desperate for her to contradict him. She hates how calm he is in the face of impending disaster. "You're just not willing to let go. And that's okay. I knew it when I first met you."

She wants to correct him, she really does. Deny everything and dive back under cover for safety and protection. But she can't bring herself to lie, not when she's become so accustomed to being alone with her very real feelings for a very real person who is very far away.

Instead - "I'm trying new things," she says weakly. "I have to."

"I know," he says gently. "But I like you too much _and_  I know my own limits to put both of us through that. I'm not the right person for you. We already kind of tried this once. Twice now."

"Thank you," she mumbles, though it comes out as more of a question than anything because she's trying to figure out how he made being dumped feel cathartic for both of them.

She goes through the motions of buying a pint of ice cream and putting on her comfiest slippers and sweater, before she realizes that she's not  _sad_. She's not relieved either. Just...neutral...as if she's already accepted that being dumped by a decent - albeit pretty generic - guy is a part of her regular routine. Part of her life.

This all gives Chloe a headache when she tries to sit down and think it through thoroughly. When she calls Aubrey to talk about  _everything_ , it's more peaceful than she expects.

"Maybe you just need to get it out of your system. Through flings. Fling it out of your system."

"I'm not really a serial dater, Aubrey," Chloe reminds her. She brightens as a thought flits through her mind. "Oh, speaking of serial daters, did you see that Beca attended some kind of party with Taylor Swift just last night? I mean, I don't think they interacted, but they were breathing the same air. Maybe they used the same washroom." Beca is strongly opposed to Taylor Swift. The thought of them interacting entertains Chloe to no end.

"Oh, Chloe."

"What?"

Aubrey breathes deeply through the phone. "You _know_. I think that you deserve better than Beca," Aubrey says in the most matter-of-fact tone Chloe has ever heard her use. She thinks back to what Chicago said about  _loving Beca,_ but the flash it sends through her makes her repress it because it's still a fresh wound that's a product of believing in a relationship that doesn't even exist. "Besides," Aubrey continues. "I'm not telling you to  _date_. I'm more or less...telling you to be more like how you were in our first couple of years of university."

 _Ah._ Chloe wonders if she should even bother trying to play it off. She decides that she respects Aubrey more than that and she _did_ call for clarity. "Maybe I should," Chloe hums noncommittally. She isn't going to go down right away. "Maybe not."

"Typical," Aubrey grumbles. "I just think you need to broaden your horizons a little bit, alright? For all you know, this could just be an infatuation. It's not just Beca out there, you know?"

"Out where? In California?"

"No," Aubrey says, huffing. "In general. The world. You know, lots of fish in the sea and all that?" She sighs then, long and all-suffering as only Aubrey can. "But, I know that you two are going to find your way back to each other no matter what. I've known that since you failed Russian Literature  _three years in a row_." 

Chloe rolls her eyes because Aubrey and everybody else will never let her live that down.

"Fine. I'll try to  _broaden my horizons_ ," she mockingly parrots. As the words leave her mouth, it doesn't sound like a terrible idea. It sounds like a way to genuinely check out the dating pool she's largely ignored over the past few years. It sounds like the rush of fresh air when you open a door after spending so long inside. It sounds like a way to ease the ache she feels inside whenever she thinks about how much time has to actually pass before she can see Beca in person again.

It sounds like she'll be ready for whatever happens when she moves to California.

It sounds like a start.

 

* * *

 

In Los Angeles, Beca tiredly scrawls down yet another recording note before packing up her stuff. The work is draining, but satisfying.

In the haze of moving and leaving everything behind, Beca grounds herself in what she knows: music and the people that inspire her. She sends general messages to her friends across the country, too tired to maintain long, drawn-out conversations. She misses everybody, but she's genuinely busy and trying to keep up with all the new experiences and trends she's about five years behind on.

She has about twenty email drafts addressed to Chloe that she hasn't sent. They all start with a variation of ' _I miss you_ ' and they all end with a variation of ' _I can't wait to see you again_ '. Instead, she feels like a chump and a coward when she sends  _Chloe_ the same general messages, but it's because her stomach always twists and her toes curl at the thought of Chloe  _moving_ to California. She doesn't want to think about what it all means.

She slowly makes friends (read: acquaintances) here and there - though none to replace the friends she already has - usually with interns and other entry-level employees. They know who she is, vaguely, but none of them appear blinded by Beca’s obvious star power. Los Angeles is so different from New York. In New York, at least there was a more obvious disregard for other people. It’s more masked and camouflaged in Los Angeles. Beca loves it. She hones her passive aggressive skills.

“Is this your sister?” one of the recording interns asks, a flirtatious lilt to his voice. Beca looks up from the soundboard to see him pointing at her phone, which has just flashed with a couple notifications. She’s confused because the notifications are from her dad and it clearly says “Father” on the text message bubble. She realizes belatedly that he had been pointing at her background, which is that photo she snapped of Chloe all those months ago in Brooklyn. She can still hear the sound of Chloe’s laughter and the crashing of her Jenga tower. It’s home.

 _Her sister._ Well, Beca would be in a lot of trouble morally and criminally, if her thoughts were ever publicized.

“She’s cute,” he pushes, smiling.

“That’s Chloe,” she says unable to keep the affection out of her voice. She misses Chloe every day and is counting down the days until she can actually see her in person. Being unable to find strength to commit to just  _talking_ to Chloe about her day kills her a little bit. But Chloe's life is going to be four hundred fucking miles away and Beca's too scared to try and make that work. She knows how these stories end. She's now literally seen songwriters write the songs and lament about how much distance sucks. She was  _literally_ one of those stories.

She always loses herself in this line of thinking whenever it happens. She doesn’t bother elaborating on who Chloe is because she’s Beca, that’s Chloe, and well, that’s that. It’s a certainty she holds close to her heart because Chloe means the world to her, has always meant the world to her, and _will_ mean the world to her. Beca would probably allow Chloe to drink water next to her soundboard, even if it’s out of that damned yellow cup.

In that grand Los Angeles recording studio, word spreads afterwards and apparently Beca Mitchell’s got a “Chloe” and that’s that.

 

* * *

 

**_End of Chloe's Senior Year, round 1 (March to August)_ **

"What do you mean I can't graduate?" Chloe asks, gripping the edge of her seat. "What are you talking about?" Her mind flies at the thought of not graduating with the rest of her class, how disappointed her parents will be, how disappointed Aubrey's going to be, and how disappointed Beca's going to be. Beca has been the surprising strength behind her last set of brutal undergraduate finals, somehow managing to always make a perfect mix of study music even amidst her own fairly new relationship with Jesse.

"It says here that you haven't completed a breadth requirement for your program, Ms. Beale," her stuffy advisor says, staring her down over the rim of her glasses.

"I failed a course?" Chloe pushes, trying to clarify because she's genuinely confused. She doesn't think that she bombed that Chemical Biology final and absolutely refuses to think that she failed her biology-computer science course because both her very computer-science-major parents would probably disown her and she would never be able to see her dog again.

"It's not so much that you failed, Ms. Beale, but that you didn't register at all. You were supposed to fulfil your Arts and Culture course requirement by taking a literature course and a culture course, not two culture courses."

"Well, what do you have for the summer?" Chloe asks, a twinge of desperation. Her phone buzzes. Probably Beca asking where she is for their biweekly Bella boot camp. "Anything," she says quickly. "I'll do it." 

"It'll have to be one of these literature courses since we have limited availability during spring-summer terms," her advisor says, pushing a list towards Chloe. "You will have to pay for the full credit and your convocation will be in the Fall, without your peers, unfortunately,” she says sounding like this isn’t very unfortunate at all.

Chloe scans the _very_ short list. There are only two courses available: German Literature and Russian Literature. Interestingly, the first thought that comes to mind is that Beca's going to have a field day with either of these courses. God, she hates school. 

Well, she doesn't - not really. School comes easily to her, but only in subjects where there's a definitive right and wrong answer. Chloe thinks that it's probably because she grew up under her parents' command, always focused on the technical instead of the artistic. Having the company of the Bellas, especially this final year has basically been the manifestation of the family she's always wanted amidst all her self-imposed torture. She had even enjoyed the past two semesters, finally feeling as if she hadn't been going through the motions robotically.

She packs up her papers with a mumbled promise to register for her selected course before firing off a few texts to Beca as she storms away. _'God',_ she sends. _'I'm going to be stuck here over the summer!'_ One more text for emphasis. _'BECAUSE I DIDNT TAKE A REQUIRED COURSE :@ :@ :@ :@ pls help me choose between german or russian lit!!!'_

Beca's reply is almost instantaneous. _'That sucks. Also, I haven't updated my literal phone, so I have no idea what emojis those are or if they're even emojis.'_ Of course, Beca doesn't appreciate texting etiquette.

 _'You're actually the lamest friend I have, Bec.'_ Chloe squints. Oops. She's about to correct her error with ' _*Beca'_ when her phone chimes.

 _'I'm your only friend, Chlo.'_ is the text that comes in, followed by ' _Also, take Russian lit. Maybe you'll learn about that one part of Russia that has a lot of red heads. Hurry up!_ ' Russian Lit it is, then. 

It ends up being the worst course she's ever taken because she hates reading novels with a passion. Russian Literature is also the most dramatic thing she's ever encountered in her entire undergrad, _including_ Aubrey's projectile vomit. It's very unsettling. 

However, her entire summer passes in a blur of lounging in the auditorium with Beca, forcing Beca-the-toddler to do _some_ cardio, and making sure Beca doesn't screw up her "first real relationship" (Beca's words), though minimal emphasis on that last riveting activity. It's honestly not the worst way to pass her summer, and by the time the last few weeks of summer term come around, she feels like she and Beca have become real friends. Not just erstwhile acquaintances who settle for a call every holiday, but true friends. She's a solid presence in Chloe's life and she makes it harder and harder to say goodbye to Barden, especially when Chloe sees how much Beca is actually trying to take hold of the Bellas with a passion she remembers seeing in herself.

Being with Beca is easy and Chloe can't complain that she's stuck on the East Coast instead of on the West.

Beca does complain a lot though. If it's not about how she needs to work out more and will probably die if she has to sit through one more gym session, it's about how tough she's going to have it when fall semester starts up. "How come Aubrey got you and I get nobody?" Beca scoffs. “I mean, not that I’m comparing myself to Aubrey, but you guys had a good thing going on.”

Chloe smiles fondly and reassures Beca lightly. "You'll find someone! What about Stacie?" They both grin a little bit at the thought.

"She seems like she'd be distracted. And distracting." Beca sighs, watching on as Chloe scribbles something in her notebook from her reading. Chloe tries to flash a reassuring smile when she sees Beca fidgeting out of the corner of her eye. "I can't believe you're finally leaving this place," Beca mutters. "Why weren't we born in the same year? Then we'd do this together."

It's so wistful and tinged with longing - two tones that never really stick to Beca's personality profile - that Chloe looks up. “You think we’d still be friends?”

“I think in every lifetime, you’d worm your way into my life somehow,” Beca says in the sincerest tone she’s ever heard. “Though, I hope for the sake of me in those other timelines, you don’t accost me in the shower.”

She wonders if this is seeing for the first time, though perhaps more apt is hearing a song for the first time with startling clarity. Being with Beca _is_ easy. Beca has easily become one of her closest - if not best - friends over the past year. Chloe's life feels like it has meaning, suddenly, and with a stunning force, everything seems to come crashing into her mind with the weight of self-understanding. The way she brushes off Beca lightheartedly every time she tries to talk about Jesse. The way she’s always concerned with Beca’s emotional and physical well-being to the point of physically helping her with stretches or exercises. She had chalked it all up to admiration and adoration of Beca’s inner strength, but she feels like it’s all that, plus more. So much more.

And the _staring_ \- God, she feels like a creep sometimes. Right _now_ , she’s doing it. She tries not to stare at Beca - _really_ she does - but it's hard not to when all she sees is a year of Beca finding herself, loving music, and being there for Chloe in ways that not many people have.

"Well, if I fail Russian lit, maybe I'll stick around for you," Chloe jokes.

She's already made up her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, guys. Your support means a lot because this fic means a lot to me. I will always do my best to respond to comments and questions! Also, feel free to message me here or on Twitter @tizzleshizzle. :)
> 
> I can't believe it's already the end of 2017!


	4. she is the sweetest thing i know

**_The World Championship of A Capella, Copenhagen (3 Years Ago)_ **

They’re all a mess of arms and legs and crying and laughing, even as they’re ushered off stage after being presented that gorgeous trophy.

Beca thinks she’s in a fever dream. She’s in _Denmark_ , surrounded by her _family_ and they’re all whooping and hollering and jumping on top of her because they _won_.

They won.

Her eyes catch Chloe’s from across their hug circle and they share a smile. Chloe’s eyes are glistening and she’s smiling and laughing and just so happy that it makes Beca’s heart race for a moment.

They won.

“Come here,” she calls to Chloe from across the circle, and pulls her into a crushing hug.

She doesn’t know where she’d be without Chloe because Chloe is her partner, her other half, the choreographer to her music arrangements. She’s guided Beca through her entire university career and Beca doesn’t even have anything she can say she’s done _for_ Chloe.

Chloe sinks into the hug immediately and if she’s surprised, she doesn’t show it in any visible way to Beca. Beca knows she isn’t the most receptive person to hugs herself, so this display of affection must shock people, but it’s only for the barest of seconds because the Bellas are just leaping on their backs, Fat Amy is yelling something about “Bloe”, and Chloe’s fingers dig into Beca’s back and shoulder blade.

“We won,” Chloe says into Beca’s ear, amidst the laughter and screeching.

Beca shivers because Chloe’s lips brush against the skin lightly. She thinks of long nights choreographing, falling asleep together on the couch after figuring out flight logistics, holding each other’s gazes in solitude, and lingering hugs after a long day of rehearsals. Chloe is absolutely the only person she thinks she wants to celebrate with because of everything they’ve been through. She thinks of potentially not seeing Chloe again after all of this and it makes her coil and tense in fear.

Beca’s sure they won, but she feels like she’s missed something along the way. Before she can dwell on it, she hears Jesse and Benji join the fold. Emily hugs Benji excitedly, darting out of their circle, and with that, their bubble is popped.

Through the gap between the Bellas, Beca sees Jesse over Chloe’s shoulder. He spots her and steps into their circle.

“Hi,” Jesse says lightly, barely glancing at Chloe who pulls away from Beca fairly quickly upon hearing his voice. Beca shoots her a confused look, but smiles up at Jesse obligingly.

“Hello, boyfriend who traveled across an ocean to see me.”

“You girls were amazing out there,” Jesse said genuinely. “I couldn’t believe it. The crowd was on the verge of tears the whole way through.”

“Did you cry?” Beca asks knowingly.

“I definitely did not.”

He pulls her into a hug then, followed by a light kiss. She sinks into it momentarily, then pulls back because she feels like something’s missing. It startles her because she rarely feels like that – and whenever she has, it has been minuscule enough to ignore.

“What’s wrong?” Jesse asks, concerned.

“I – nothing. I’m just still just…running on adrenaline, I guess.” It’s weak, but Jesse doesn’t question it; Jesse never questions because he trusts Beca.

“Okay,” he says, smiling.

When Beca looks back, Chloe is gone.

Amidst all her success in university, everything was worth it because Chloe had been standing there next to her. Chloe had _helped_ her and _believed_ in her when it felt like other people didn’t. Chloe had helped her study for exams for classes she hated. Chloe had stood up for her when she fought with one of Jesse’s Treblemakers. Chloe had listened to her cry over Jesse when they had argued. Chloe had gone to Jesse to tell him off. Chloe had told _her_ off for being obtuse.

(And while she suspects, she never voices it because of the ramifications that she absolutely cannot deal with – Chloe failed Russian Literature to be with _her_.)

Amidst this particular milestone, this specific win, Chloe is gone, lost in the crowd of people.

Maybe not even backstage anymore. Maybe not even within running distance.

It feels like a loss more devastating than if they hadn’t won.

 

* * *

 

 

**_California (Present)_ **

It's the end of July and the heat is bordering on skin-melting. Chloe slaps on twenty layers of sunscreen whenever she goes out, but eventually, the routine settles inside her bones and she finds herself pulling out her bike to explore. 

She tries to find board game cafes, record shops, and coffee shops, all to file away “places to bring Beca” in the back of her mind.

The sunshine warms her skin and helps her forget momentarily.

She settles into her apartment.

She has three roommates, all three of them female, and all three of them good friends with each other. Chloe feels out of place for about two seconds, but they’re all friendly enough. Elise Walsh is tall – maybe taller than Emily – with long, straight blonde hair that hangs well past her shoulders. She’s in her first year of her PhD in English and she’s all long limbs and even tans that makes Chloe envious.

Alexandra Tam is probably around Chloe’s height, though she’s sitting when Chloe first drags her oversized luggage in the apartment. She waves in a manner that’s friendly enough and introduces herself and is in her second and final year of her studies in Child Development. Her hair is thick, dark, and piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Chloe immediately thinks of Beca, though Beca would scoff at the thought of taking on more education.

Her third and final roommate is a shorter, brown-haired girl named Victoria Prescott who has headphones around her neck when she grabs Chloe’s hand to shake. The sight of the headphones makes an unexpected pang run through her body. Her brown hair is wild and messy and her clothes are casual and loose, which is what makes it surprising to Chloe when she learns that she’s pursuing a veterinary degree as well and that she’s in Chloe’s cohort.

“You’re in vet school,” Chloe repeats.

“Yeah,” Victoria says with an arched brow. “Surprised?”

“No,” Chloe says quickly as Alexandra and Elise laugh lightly. “I just – I am too. I’m Chloe, by the way.”

“Yeah, you might have mentioned that,” Victoria says, though there’s a greater emphasis on the teasing lilt to her voice. “Where are you from?”

“New York,” Chloe replies. “Uh, sorry. I meant that I moved from New York where I was living for the past couple of years. I’m from Portland, originally.”

“You don’t look like you lived in New York for two years,” Elise comments.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean like…you don’t have that far-off look of longing that somebody who’s lived in New York typically has. It has some kind of holding power.”

Chloe thinks about how her only tie to New York moved across the country and how she grew to despise the city that never sleeps; Chloe thinks about Beca making her tea in their sometimes-too-cold Brooklyn apartment; Chloe thinks about Beca and how Beca _was_ New York.

“I guess the magic fades eventually,” Chloe says softly. “It…it was really nice to meet you. I’m going to unpack now.”

Unpacking is only just an afterthought since she knows that everything she’s been missing is four hundred miles away.

She sits heavily on her bare and thinks about texting Beca. Just to see how her day is.

‘ _California is beautiful_.’ she types. ‘ _I miss you._ ’, she throws in, feeling emboldened by the warm air.

She chews her lip.

She deletes the text.

Instead, she sends Beca a photo of her gigantic pile of shoes and another photo of a street performer across the street who’s doing some interpretive dance. Beca loves the most inane things.

Within the next week, Chloe is trying to figure out where her classes are on campus so she doesn’t lose her way on the first day. She figures out how to use public transport. She figures out how to work the laundry machines at the sketchy laundromat. She figures out which take-out places are good.

She’s trying to figure out how to live in California and she feels marginally better about it every day that passes.

 _(‘How’s California treating you, Chlo?’_ Beca waits a little while before sending that message. _)_

( _‘Pretty well. And yourself?’_ Ugh, of course California is treating Beca well. She’s been there for months.)

( _‘Can’t complain, really. Hope to see you soon.’_ Beca scrunches her face up as soon as she sends the text. She hates how lame she is. She ignores the many drafts of text messages and emails piling up, asking Chloe to come visit.)

Chloe is midway through her graduate student orientation, made only marginally better because Victoria is making sarcastic comments by her ear everytime their orientation leader says something ridiculous or embarrassing. Their orientation leader is a tall, moderate-looking boy with light brown hair and blue eyes. Chloe supposes he’s attractive, but she’s busy rifling through all the documents they’ve been saddled with.

“Why can’t they just tell us to look this up online?” Chloe asks, stuffing everything into her satchel.

Victoria laughs. “They’ve got to start using our tuition for something. Excessive printing is a start.” Chloe’s phone buzzes with another message from Beca. “Girlfriend?” Victoria asks casually.

“Yeah?” Chloe asks absently, focusing on walking and texting without tripping.

“No, I meant – is _that_ your girlfriend. The girl who keeps texting you and the girl who’s in your lock screen photo with you.”

Chloe flushes, lowering her phone for the moment. “No, she’s just…She’s a friend. We just text. Haven’t really talked in a while,” she says honestly. “Her name’s Beca,” she continues, unable to keep her tone from changing as it does whenever she talks or even just _thinks_ about Beca.

Victoria arches an eyebrow that makes Chloe instantly jealous. She wishes she possessed that kind of control over her eyebrows. “If you say so.”

“Hey, you don’t know me,” Chloe says defensively.

“No, but I’d like to,” Victoria says honestly. It takes Chloe by surprise, the forwardness, but then Victoria continues, shaking her head. “Not in _that_ way. Just because you’re my roommate. And we’re in this program together. So we’re going to be friends. It’s inevitable…and a little bit necessary.”

That’s quite the declaration of friendship, but Chloe has always enjoyed things that exist outside of the ordinary. She settles for putting her phone away for the time being. “So,” she asks casually. “Do you like to sing?”

“God, no.”

Chloe sighs.

* * *

 

Beca stares at the song that just dropped in front of her. Theo stands with his arms crossed as he rudely interrupts her breakfast/Jenga routine. The title is ‘Miss You’ and it’s in its draft stages.

It makes Beca recoil.

“I am _not_ singing a love song on my album,” she says immediately.

“It’s not a _love_ song. It’s about reconciliation and honesty,” Theo says irritably. “Haven’t you ever been in a relationship before? Aren’t you in a relationship now?”

“That is…none of your business. And no,” she mutters. Beca pulls the pages towards her tentatively as if they’ll burn her. She hates vulnerability and honesty. She’s okay with mixing music and figuring out harmonies and melodies. She can hide behind music notes. Looking at lyrics that have the capability of baring her soul, she doesn’t want people to just look at her and _know_.

“I’ll take a look,” Beca mumbles. She pushes her cereal further away, feeling less hungry.

“Good,” Theo says. “I’ll let myself out.” Beca should have never let him in.

She listens to the click of the door and the automatic lock and settles back in her chair, trying to get comfortable amidst her tension.

As her eyes scan the lyrics, she knows she absolutely cannot put this anywhere for the public to access. Beca’s eyes narrow, then well up with tears – tears that are born out of both frustration and sadness. She tries to keep it down because she never thought she’d be the movie cliché of crying alone in her kitchen in front of her soggy bowl of cereal, but she’s experienced a lot of firsts this year. She’s not keeping a tally.

“Fuck,” she whispers. Her mind latches on to the opening for a memory and quickly pulls up every damn moment she’s tried to repress.

She can’t bring it in her to fight instinct.

' _Hey, call me._ ' Another.  _'Er, or I could call you. You don't have to call me_. _'_

In Davis, Chloe stares at the texts for two minutes, unable to process exactly what's happening. She glances at her orientation group leader who is busy flirting with another member of her cohort. She rolls her eyes. 

' _Now?'_ she texts back.  _'Really?'_

Miles away, Beca flushes in embarrassment. She forgot that Chloe probably needed to settle in at school and immediately feels like an idiot. _'Are you busy?'_

Chloe's response is nearly instantaneous.  _'Of course not. Never, when it comes to you.'_ It warms Beca and she doesn't bother fighting the smile. Instinctively, she taps the call button and waits for the call to connect.

It didn't initially occur to Beca what hearing Chloe's voice would do, after months of not hearing it and having Chloe in her life. When Chloe's phone clicks, she says "I should be mad at you, you know" and all Beca thinks is that she would love to have that as a ringtone. Or just save it somewhere so she can hear it over and over again.

"Hi," Beca manages to croak out. She clears her throat as best as she can, but the lump persists because she feels like crying and laughing. The pent-up emotions are warring for dominance and all Beca can do is just take it.

"Hi," Chloe replies, her voice softer and lower. "Are you okay, Bec?" Her concern for Beca will always win out because that's all she feels like she's ever known.

"Yeah, I just...I haven't heard your voice in forever," Beca says, unable to filter any of her thoughts because she's still shaken by the sound of Chloe's voice sounding clearly in her ear.

"And whose fault is that?" Chloe jokes, a teasing lilt to her voice. 

"I'm sorry. I just -" There are no excuses that Beca thinks will even begin to make up for her decision to isolate herself amidst her work. No excuses that she particularly wants to subject Chloe to because Chloe deserves better. "I'm sorry for not calling when I moved. When I started working. I'm sorry for not calling earlier."

On the other side, Chloe sucks in a breath. She loves Beca's sincerity and self-awareness when she knows she's done something potentially hurtful or wrong. "I...it's okay. I could have called too," she admits softly. "I was always just waiting for you."

Beca's laugh is slightly breathless, a combination of sheepishness and relief. It makes Chloe's chest hurt with longing. "I was kind of waiting for you too."

Beca’s initial need to call Chloe to talk about songs and lyrics and being vulnerable vanishes away because with Chloe it has always been all about openness and vulnerability, without pretense. Beca feels her wall splinter and crack in a way that Chloe only knows how to do, without even trying.

She has always waited for Chloe.

It's everything and nothing all at once.

It settles in the distance between them and they sit in silence for at least a minute. Chloe can hear Beca breathing and it makes her want to cry. It's both hope and the pain of not actually being able to see each other.

But it's still  _hope_  and it's something to latch on to.

They don't talk again for another month, but the weight has begun to dissipate. 

The months no longer feel like years and it's a start.

She forgets about the song because her healing is now happening in real-time.

 

* * *

 

Healing gives way to more frequent texts. Something that Beca both loves and hates about Chloe is that she spam texts.

_‘BECA!’_

_‘My roommates suck.’_

_‘I miss you.’_

_‘And Amy.’_

_‘Mostly you.’_  

Whenever Beca receives three to five messages in a row, she knows it’s Chloe.

Eventually, Chloe text-yells at her to stop ignoring her Snapchats. She had gotten a new phone after moving from New York, so she hadn’t gotten around to re-downloaded all her previous apps. The only people she ever Snaps are Amy, Chloe, Aubrey when she’s feeling sarcastic, and sometimes Emily.

Sure enough, her latest Snaps are a small backlog of Chloe’s most recent photos. It makes Beca suck in a breath because it’s like she hadn’t remembered how beautiful Chloe is. It’s also staggering because Chloe looks more cheerful than Beca feels; it is staggering because being away from Chloe is so ridiculously hard.

During what she knows is Chloe’s first official week of (even) higher education, Beca sends about a hundred Snapchats showing off her awesome new workspaces. She knows Chloe is probably slightly nervous about her classes even though Beca knows she'll ace every single one. Chloe responds with emojis and sad, pouty selfies, looking like she’s in the library. Beca doesn’t want to seem desperate so she doesn’t screenshot them even though she thinks Chloe is adorable and she wants to save all of them to print out and stick them all over her desk. She does instead, replay at least half of them.

‘ _Cute_ ,’ she sends in response to a selfie, unable to control herself. She actually does screenshot this one because Chloe looks ridiculous. It’s how she likes Chloe; it’s where she thinks Chloe is at her best: unreserved and open. She’s wearing a latex glove on her head and is sticking her tongue out towards the camera. Even though it’s humourous above all, Beca can’t help but stare at Chloe’s mouth for an extended period beyond what is probably appropriate. This acknowledgement of their distance is both hard and enlightening. Beca feels like she can flirt a little bit here and there, but she can also still manage her own feelings from a safe distance.

Over 400 miles away, Chloe mock-scowls at her phone when Beca sends that one-word response. She does take joy somewhat in the fact that at least Beca is responsive at all - verging on a comfortable flirtation. She hesitates before tapping out a reply. ‘ _Send me your worst, Mitchell_.’ She really should be reading her lab textbook.

Beca replies ‘ _Ugh.’_ followed by a moment of radio silence. Then, Chloe gets a Snap. She grins when she sees Beca’s attempt at a crappy selfie. Of course, it’s just a deadpan expression on her face and she’s looking anywhere but at the camera. It’s so  _Beca,_ and Chloe is charmed as she always is when it comes to Beca.

She screenshots the photo without hesitation and they move on with their lives.

Something that never really makes it into their conversations is that Chloe is still casually seeing people occasionally. A boy from her class. A girl she meets at the laboratory supply window. Another girl who accidentally picks up Chloe's coffee.

They're just dates for the most part, but Chloe finds them all lacking something. In her latest slew of candidates, she finds them all lacklustre and barely manages a few dates. For Thomas, it was that he sucked as a DJ (in Chloe's opinion) when he brought her to one of his 'shows'. For Jessica from the coffee shop, it was that her hair wasn't quite the right shade of brown. For Rebecca, it was something that didn't quite sit well with her when she entered her name into her phone's contact book. 

She’s sucked into the whirlwind of school fairly quickly, but she circles the weekend of Beca’s birthday with a red marker amidst her assignments and midterms. Chloe wonders if Beca would mind if they got together. Birthdays are basically holidays to Chloe and she knows how much Beca absolutely loves her own birthday. Well, Chloe loves Beca’s birthday.

Beca finds out about Chloe's serial dating completely by accident. It's because she finds herself in a group Skype call with Fat Amy, Aubrey, and Flo. Although it's primarily with Aubrey and Flo because Amy seems to be really invested in her phone.

Beca's not completely sure why she was invited to this group chat, but she's starting to ease her way back into her friend group and she really does miss everybody. She's tired of just playing Jenga by herself. She was also asked to cease the Jenga playing late at night because her downstairs neighbours had complained. Beca can't help that she's a mess and that she misses all the most important people in her life.

"What have you been up to, Beca?" Aubrey asks politely.

Flo nods eagerly. "We've seen that you've done some cool things. Have you been making music?"

"Well, she's been hooking up with all these cool celebrities, obviously," Amy answers absently.

"I haven't been  _hooking up_  with anybody," Beca splutters. "What?" She thinks she sees a relieved expression pass over Aubrey's face, but it's honestly pretty pixellated and Aubrey could have just been grimacing at Beca as usual.

"Oh, I meant like...hanging out. Just chilling."

"Then why didn't you just say that?" Beca grumbles.

"Have you been dating anybody?" Aubrey asks innocently.

Amy looks up from phone and three sets of eye fixate firmly on the screen, waiting firmly for Beca's answer. She's baffled by this interest in her love life because it's starting to definitely feel like an ambush.

"No," Beca says, drawing it out. "But I don't see how that's any of your business. It's not like there are a lot of options here," she mutters.

"Isn't Los Angeles the most populated city in the US?"

"Second," Beca corrects, before clearing her throat hastily. "But, I haven't really found time to date."

They all nod and seem to take that in stride. Beca thinks they're about to move on when Fat Amy snickers a little bit, continuing to text on her phone. "Well that's something, isn't it? Hasn't Chloe dated the entire list of popular American names within the past six months?"

Beca's computer is the only thing making any significant sound when Amy's sentence ends. Aubrey and Flo are gaping in their tiny little squares on Beca's screen and Amy doesn't seem to realize what bomb she just detonated over Beca's life.

Beca laughs nervously because she's sure she heard that all incorrectly. Or it was a joke. Beca likes jokes. "What?" she asks. "Is that a joke?"

Then Beca takes in the expressions on Flo's and Aubrey's faces. Flo looks surprised, which is expected. But Aubrey looks like she just swallowed something sour. Her lips are pursed and she looks like she's about ten seconds away from declaring that they need to set up for competition that they're definitely going to lose.

"What?" Beca repeats when nobody says anything. "Amy, what the hell?"

Amy sighs, shooting Beca an irritated look. "Well, I'm sorry Beca. Some of us can't monitor your girlfriend for you and give you updates twenty-four-seven. She's probably been lonely."

It's an offhand comment, but it punches Beca in the gut forcefully. Chloe is  _lonely_. She feels like an asshole. "That - that's not-"

"-Besides,” Fat Amy interrupts. “All of us thought you two would have bumped uglies by now."

Beca feels the heat rise all the way to the tips of ears and nose. "What are you talking about?" She chances a glance at Flo and Aubrey's little windows to see the two of them just nodding sagely, though Aubrey does it with an expression that looks like she's judging Beca. She probably is, which is fine because Beca judges her too. "I...don't need this right now. I had a long day," she says hastily. They look appropriately chastened, which Beca appreciates. "I - look. Will I see all of you at that weird birthday thing the label's throwing for me in September? I'm going to start letting the other girls know."

She still wants to see her weird, nosy friends.

Fat Amy perks up. "Will there be handsome men?"

"There will probably be handsome men," Beca says disinterestedly. "I just...want to see you guys again. I know I've been a jerk."

Flo smiles kindly. "We get it, Beca. But thank you for that."

Aubrey isn't so forgiving. "We're not the only ones you've ignored." It's pointed, determined, and hits Beca right in the chest.

"I know," she admits. 

"As long as you know," Aubrey says with a sniff as only Aubrey can. Beca hates the affection that passes through her at the sight and sound.

"Wow Aubrey, lay off her for a little bit. She's in shock from the previous tidbit."

"Just let me know whether you guys can come!" Beca exclaims, not wanting to relive that. 

When they confirm and Beca ends the call, she exhales heavily through her nose. 

Her phone buzzes with text messages and she gives it a cursory once-over, before she freezes, lingering. She clears all her notifications and stares at her lock screen instead. Chloe's smile and the memory of what being able to actually hear what Chloe's voice sounds like, or just... _talking_  to Chloe and updating each other about their lives. The strain their relationship has taken has already begun to rear its ugly head. Beca knows that Chloe would have never kept something like  _dating_  from her.

It's the memory of how they used to be - Chloe's lack of personal boundaries in sharing information and physical touching - that makes Beca feel like she's aged about twenty years within the past ten minutes. She drags her phone closer to her and opens Photos.

She's immediately assaulted by every repressed memory and thought. They come crashing out of the photos and screenshots of conversations and latch around Beca's heart like a vice-grip.

It's like peeling off the band-aid and preparing to douse the wound with cleansing solution.

Lots of it.

 

* * *

 

Chloe sees a girl named Sam for a couple weeks. She’s short with dark hair that falls somewhere past her shoulders. She’s kind and witty and she works at the coffee shop Chloe frequents when she’s trying to avoid studying even if it’s only just a few weeks into school. Somewhere inside that brief fling, Beca calls her. It's an honest-to-God, middle-of-the day call on a Saturday. Chloe is making herself a quick lunch and nearly burns her hand when she sees Beca's photo pop up on her phone.

“This girl,” Chloe mutters. She had tried calling Beca a couple times over the past few weeks, but she had been busy in the studio. "You've got a lot of nerve, Beca Mitchell," she says sharply in greeting, recalling the last time they talked on the phone. Too long ago. “Thanks for calling,” she says mock-sweetly.

And Beca? She laughs. She laughs and it's musical, light, and everything Chloe's been missing for the past little while.

“What are you doing over my birthday weekend?”

This makes Chloe’s back straighten. “Oh, um nothing I guess. I was thinking I could…maybe come visit you.”

“That’s perfect, Chlo.” Chloe grins at that. “It turns out that the label is going to throw me a birthday party. All part of the promotional circus-circuit bullshit. I said I had to invite my friends at least. Er – no plus-ones though.” Beca’s tone shifts. “If you’ve…been…seeing people. I don’t know if you have. I just heard. Maybe.”

Chloe is very interested in this line of thought. Beca’s tone has decidedly taken on an unaffected air and it’s all very fascinating to Chloe.

"Well, if you were jealous, you could have just said so," Chloe teases. It's desperate, on her part. She'll take their tiresome banter over  _nothing_.

To her immense surprise, Beca sighs, which means she's about to say something devastatingly honest or devastatingly heartbreaking. Or both. "I am," she says quietly, then there's a short intake of breath as if she can't believe she just said that to Chloe.

Chloe blinks owlishly. "You are...what?" she asks slowly.

It's so easy to turn her feelings on for Beca, because she never really got rid of them. They've lingered, like a persistent memory, or the slightly faded-but-never-forgotten lyrics of the song you love to sing when you're taking a road trip down the sunny coast. They begin to turn on, full force, as she sits there listening to Beca just  _breathe_ over the phone.

"I am jealous," Beca says softly. "I...God, this makes me sound like such a jealous wacko, but when Amy told me about all the people you've seen-"

"-of course she did," Chloe mutters absentmindedly. Her heart is thudding in her chest because of course this conversation is happening now.

"-I just thought about how much I'd like to kick any of their smug asses," Beca finishes. It's not quite the romantic declaration that Chloe envisioned, but she thinks about Beca fighting with people who are double her size and how  _tiny_ she is and it makes her smile and swoon all at once.

"I mean, I usually break up with _them_ , so they’re probably not  _smug_ , but-"

"Chloe, it's  _you_. Of course they’re smug." It's the most sure Beca has sounded this entire conversation, like - like she's convinced that Chloe is something worth fighting for, somebody worth being  _smug_ about.

 _Oh_. There's that declaration. Chloe has to sit down, releasing a heavy breath as she does so.

"Oh," she echoes her thoughts. She doesn't tell Beca how dating is about coping just as avoidance is Beca's method of coping.

“I just…I’m jealous because I want to know these things about you too. The stuff we used to talk about. I want things to go back to how they were. And how we used to tell each other everything. Or just enough about our lives because we mattered to each other.” This entire conversation is the most Beca has spoken to her in  _months_ , at least a way that feels like they're moving forward instead of staying stagnant.

Chloe’s heart splinters. “You’ve always mattered to me, Bec.”

“It’s been so lonely here,” Beca says, so quietly. “I wish you were here.”

Chloe sucks in a breath because she has been lonely too. Lonely to the point of losing her damn mind. “I am here,” Chloe tries to reassure Beca. “I’m here.”

She misses her date with Sam, but she figures it's fair since Sam isn't Beca and was never going to be Beca anyway. It’s time to stop trying; to stop looking.

 

* * *

 

Talking to Chloe again is akin opening the floodgates. The floodgates of every damn emotion possibly known to humanity. They talk frequently, with increased consistency, and over the phone. It helps Beca power through every day and every meeting because she knows she can tell Chloe about it later and _hear_ her thoughts on which stuffy exec is trying to get in her pants.

They’re floodgates, almost in the completely literal sense because Beca consistently feels like crying.

Closing in upon her birthday, Beca receives two demos of a song she's due to record. She's been firing lyrics back and forth with her songwriters and it's coming together. She’s tabled a few songs, putting her foot down. Beca feels like she blacks out when she writes songs now, but it has gotten easier. She listens to both carefully and decides she likes the stylings of the first and the added bridge. She adds her own notes before sending it back to Theo.

It hits her fully that she's finally producing and making her own  _music_. She thinks about how insane it all sounds, even to herself, because part of her is still stuck in that cramped dorm room, practically begging her father to understand that school isn't going to help her future.

Part of her wants to go back and smack sense into herself because she honestly doesn't know where she'd be without the love and care she got from the Bellas.

And Chloe. 

She wants to call Chloe and just gush about how everything finally feels like it's falling into place and there are just a few things she wants to sort out. The lyrics of the last song she listened to weigh heavily in her mind. It's a song about reassurance, comfort, and depending on another person just to get through a hard day. It's everything she's ever felt like Chloe. In fact, the album is shaping up to be a reflection of every single one of her inner demons and she can't tell if she hates it or she loves it. The music is good. It's the baring her soul part that has her hackles raised.

It just makes her miss Chloe even more.

She glances at her calendar where she has her birthday party marked with doodles and exclamation marks, thanks to a recording intern who is frequently overly-excited about _everything_. She heaves a sigh and leaves the studio, taking a stroll down to the lobby of the crowded office building.

Her fingers dial instinctively because she  _can_  call Chloe. She's not going to bother resisting anymore.

“Hi,” Beca says quietly into the phone. She cradles it like it’s Chloe’s arm she’s tucked into, or Chloe’s hand she’s holding. The bustling of the busy office lobby seems to fall away. She misses New York inexplicably for some reason, but it’s more that she misses waking up to the sound of Chloe’s voice before she heads to work.

“Hi you,” Chloe’s voice says from the other end of the line. It occurs to Beca that missing New York is probably just a result of how badly she misses Chloe because New York was a bubble; New York was seeing Chloe every single damn day. She hates distance with a passion and will do whatever she can to defeat it, even if it means torturing herself with mere fantasies and never attaining realities. “I miss you so much,” she breathes. Beca is not going to cry in front of high-level music executives. She is not going to cry in DJ Khaled’s fucking building.

“I miss you more,” Beca says. It’s reflex at this point and she doesn’t bother trying to stop herself. She  _does_  miss Chloe more than Chloe herself understands and she’s so fucking sorry that she’s too much of a fucking coward to do anything because people who miss somebody else that much should be punished when they refuse to do anything about it.

Chloe’s exhale sounds pained. “I’m going to see you soon, I promise. For your birthday, remember? Geez, you're old," Chloe jokes.

And God, Beca loves her for it. It's the levity they both need because they play off each other's emotions like nobody's business. Heartache breeds heartache. Levity lessens pain.

It’s the only solace that Beca has. She thinks about everything she’s already missed out on with Chloe – not realizing that Chloe was attempting to put her own life back together. Dating other people. Kissing other people. It makes her forehead throb with mental images that she wants to forget.

“Just get through this week,” Beca says, unsure if she’s speaking to Chloe or herself at this point. Anticipation curls through her body at the thought of  _actually_  seeing Chloe in person. Hearing Chloe  _breathe_  is fucking devastating.

On the other end, Chloe tightens her hand around the strap of her bag. Her books don’t feel that heavy anymore, not when she feels like she’s literally about to be crushed by the weight of missing Beca.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the week passes in a haze. Chloe takes a train, then a bus to a nondescript bus stop where Beca promises to meet her. The sun is setting slightly when the bus pulls away. Chloe stares at the busy street ahead of her and basks in the fact that she's in  _Los Angeles_. She remembers dreaming of one day visiting and even though she grew up on the West Coast, her parents never saw value in a city like Los Angeles. Chloe thinks of every Hollywood dream that makes it or breaks unforgivingly in this city. She thinks of Beca making it big and living out every dream she's had since Chloe has known her.

It warms her more than the sun and hot air.

Beca sees Chloe first, standing alone at the bus stop with one piece of luggage and a duffel, both of which are definitely in excess of what is necessary for a weekend.

"Chloe," she calls, her voice catching. It comes out as a whisper - a breath that gets lost in the sound of traffic. Her throat is dry because the sun is catching off Chloe's hair and the wind is just gently ruffling the loose cardigan Chloe has on, like an enticing caress that calls for Beca to move closer. Always closer. "Chlo," she tries again, this time managing to project her voice just enough.

Chloe looks up from her phone and their eyes connect.

The rush of feelings that assault Beca make her physically falter. She sees a mirror reaction in Chloe when their eyes lock. 

Beca kind of wishes that other Bellas had arrived first because she doesn't know if she can control any of her limbs. She strides purposefully towards Chloe who just drops her bag at the bus stop and takes her own steps towards Beca.

With every decrease in the distance between them, Beca can literally feel the metaphorical string tightening around her heart as if willing her to move faster because this, this is the person - the everything - she's been missing since she stepped foot on that dumb plane that brought her across the country. It feels like the reprise of her favourite song, reaching a crescendo.

Beca is as diminutive as Chloe remembers. It makes her arms just itch to finally hold her again before her brain catches up and she realizes that she  _can_. It propels her faster, bag forgotten, eyes locked on her Beca.

When their bodies collide, light and colour explode behind Chloe's eyelids. Beca thinks that she can finally breathe even if Chloe is squeezing the life out of her.

Chloe lifts her up and spins her around like every dumb romantic movie Beca used to watch. Only, it's not dumb. It's completion and satisfaction, over and over, because Chloe's arms remain wrapped around Beca for an extended period. Beca tangles her fingers into the hair that falls down Chloe's back in waves, the red of which sets her chest ablaze with familiarity. 

"I can't believe you're here," Beca whispers, voice muffled by Chloe's neck and shoulder and just everywhere and anywhere she can press her face.

"I can't believe  _you're_  here," Chloe whispers back in as much awe as Beca sounds, tensing her fingers against the soft fabric of her t-shirt like she's gripping Beca in fear that she'll slip away.

Because she  _had_  slipped away and Chloe had  _nothing_  for months. Hugging Beca makes her feel like she can finally exist without skipping a breath. Her heart thuds painfully and loudly as Beca's body seems to just fit like a mold against hers. She forces her lips closed because words want to come spilling out that she's not ready to hear. Words that she's sure Beca isn't ready to hear.

Beca lifts her head from Chloe's shoulder, planting her hands on the lapels of Chloe's cardigan. The knit scratches against her fingerpads and she feels Chloe's breath on her face. It's like a whoosh of air escaping from her lungs. When she looks up, their proximity makes her stomach twist. Chloe's gaze is soft, with a tinge of desperation that Beca only recognizes because she feels it deeply. Beca can't really remember the last time she saw the shade of blue of Chloe's eyes. She's spent countless hours wondering exactly what part of the day would the sky provide the closest imitation, but she knows now she was completely wrong because nothing comes close to seeing Chloe's eyes in person.

In fact, Beca can count Chloe's eyelashes. She can see the barest hint of freckles on Chloe's nose. She can see the moisture gathering in Chloe's eyes.

It makes Beca want to kiss her, but she just ever so slightly tightens her fingers in Chloe's sweater and resists. Chloe seems to sense it too because she clears her throat and loosens the hold she has on Beca and their proximity.

"You're here," Beca repeats, eyes locked on the light freckles on Chloe's nose. It's safer because her eyes desperately want to wander ever so slightly downwards.

"I'm here," Chloe repeats, like it's the easiest thing in the world.

As Beca stands there with Chloe's arms wrapped around her - warm sunshine beating down on them through her hair, her t-shirt (Chloe's hands are even warmer when they tighten against her back), her jeans - she just buries her face in Chloe's neck once more.

She always wants it to feel this easy. Maybe it always has been.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> I recently just moved back to my apartment for school and I'm getting ready for classes and stuff. I want to continue working on chapters and getting them out as soon as possible because my classes are still in their beginning stages and have yet to crush me! :D I hope to get Chapter 5 out as soon as possible.
> 
> Hope the new year is kind to you all!


	5. shakes my soul like a pot hole, every time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say that I do not encourage drinking in any form. I myself personally enjoy drinking, uh, a lot, but it's everybody's personal choice to drink xoxoxo
> 
> That being said, here's Beca's birthday party. Enjoy!
> 
> Coincidentally it is my friend's birthday. So. Happy birthday Alicia!

Beca offers to tug Chloe's luggage the few blocks back to her apartment, but Chloe insists on doing so herself. Beca sulks about it for a couple of seconds but tucks her hands into her pockets.

Walking beside Chloe feels surreal. Beca thinks that Chloe has a glow about her as if something has shifted within the past couple of months in California, something that Beca doesn't know and maybe never will. She forces back a wistful sigh and tries to continue her subtle ogling without embarrassing herself.

"Your neighbourhood is nice," Chloe says lightly, jolting Beca back to the present. They pass a couple walking their dog. Beca sees Chloe twist to follow the dog's progress for a little bit. Beca thinks Chloe is a little bit like a puppy sometimes.

"Yeah, it's nice," Beca echoes. "I like the quiet. You know me."

"Do you know anybody who lives nearby?"

"I kind of know my neighbours. Theo lives about fifteen minutes away, so he stops by to drop off work stuff."

Chloe tugs her luggage over a crack harshly. "That's nice of Theo," she says in a tone that somebody might use to describe a pile of trash. "He just stops by?"

Beca shrugs. "I mean, sometimes. If it's important."

Chloe pushes back the modicum of jealousy rising in her because she recalls Beca complaining about Theo on multiple occasions and she's never known Beca to grossly overexaggerate her feelings. She's mostly just thankful that Beca has people who provide strong support networks even if she hates the idea that this happens outside of her scope of knowledge and her general lack of physical availability to Beca.

She refuses to be jealous of anybody integral to Beca's own success and happiness. She just wants to be part of that aspect of Beca's life too because Beca is that much a part of her own happiness. "Well, if I lived here, I'd be over all the time," she says, intending it as a joke. Her feelings rise to the surface as they always do. "I'd stop by if I could," Chloe says softly. "I'm sorry I didn't visit sooner."

Beca stops abruptly, reaching for Chloe's arm. "Wait - Chlo. Please don't apologize anymore for that. I'm just so happy you're here."

It warms Chloe from the point where Beca is touching her arm, spreading all the way to her ears. "I..." Beca's eyes seem to bore right into hers, only hindered by the sunglasses. Chloe hates sunglasses in that moment. She loves it when Beca looks at her like - like she's the only person who matters in that moment, and possibly the world. Chloe can only put words to it in her mind because it's exactly how she looks at Beca when Beca doesn't realize it.

She smiles - wide and thankful - in a way that only Chloe can. It's like standing right at the edge of the ocean and letting the water spray lap at your face and body on a hot day. It makes Beca want to see her eyes again because when they embraced, she caught a glimpse; Chloe's eyes are brighter than Beca remembers and she longs to see them again. Unfortunately, Chloe slid her sunglasses down over her eyes earlier.

The silence the rest of the way is peaceful.

At her apartment, Beca lamely opens her arms and half-spins in the foyer. "Here it is - where none of the magic happens."

"Are you sure I can stay with you?" Chloe asks, concerned. "I know how much you like your space."

"You and Fat Amy literally made me sleep in the kitchen. I don't think space has ever been an issue for me."  _Never, not with you_ , Beca thinks briefly.

Chloe's eyes go soft, unspoken understanding behind them. "I guess not."

"You did ask first," Beca continues. "I feel bad that everybody else has to stay at a hotel, but I manipulated Theo into helping them score decent deals."

"Not free yet, huh?" Chloe teases.

"No, I'm not famous enough," Beca says disinterestedly. Her lips twitch into a smile because banter with Chloe is easy. "Not yet, anyway."

"You're going to be beating off men and women with a stick soon, I'm sure." Chloe catches Beca's slight flush out of the corner of her eye and decides to go easy on her. "Where am I going to be sleeping?"

"Oh, this is a pull-out," Beca says, pointing at the loveseat. "Here, let me -" she grabs at the cushions, struggling with lifting the cot out of its folded state. "I've never unfolded this before, so it's a little stiff," Beca defends when she catches Chloe laughing. 

Chloe is entertained because, well, it's a privilege to watch Beca wrestle with large objects. She tries not to stare too hard at how good Beca looks in her jeans. Or how the colour of her t-shirt compliments her skin tone perfectly. How perfectly Beca's hair tumbles over her shoulders, not quite wavy, but not ironed straight either. 

She  _tried_ not to stare, but she can't help it; can't resist, not when Beca's just  _there_ , in front of her. Hugging distance. Touching distance.

"I missed you," Chloe says - blurts - quietly. Beca has planted her hands on her hips proudly, looking at the fold-out. She turns to Chloe when she hears, eyes shining with unadulterated happiness and relief.

"I missed you too," Beca replies. She never wants to miss Chloe again. She reaches out to take Chloe's hand, ignoring the way her body heats when Chloe tangles their fingers together gently. "Tea?" she asks.

"Honey?" Chloe asks, squeezing her hand.

"Of course," Beca says. There's a cupboard with a couple jars of honey, a few boxes of Chloe's tea, and Chloe's favourite flavour of chips. It's Beca's 'Chloe will visit' cupboard and she stares at it sometimes because if she squints she can kind of remember what it was like to just  _wake up_ and hear Chloe bustling around the kitchen trying to make her tea. "I'll always keep some around for you, you tea fiend."

When Beca lets Chloe's hand go to grab a couple mugs from the cupboard, she feels the loss keenly.

"Oh," Chloe says suddenly. "Wait here."

Beca is in the middle of filling up the kettle, so she obliges willingly. She hears the sound of Chloe unzipping her duffel and then a rustling of paper. Beca assumes it's homework for the weekend or maybe even some touristy things she wants to do while she's in L.A. because Beca knows how much Chloe has always wanted to visit. 

She's popping tea bags into the mugs and just waiting for water to boil when Chloe taps her on the shoulder. "Bec," she calls.

She turns around. "What's u-" 

Beca's breath and her words catch in her throat because Chloe is standing in front of her, holding an absolutely gorgeous bouquet of tulips - a mix of red, white, and a variegated white-pink blend. They mix together so beautifully and the simplicity of the colours blends together in a heartstopping complexity that makes Beca's lungs struggle for air. The bouquet is riddled with purpose and intent - both of which she feels deep inside her. Chloe's hand trembles a bit as she lifts it up a bit higher, holding it somewhat shyly so that only her eyes are visible behind them, but even amidst the flowers, Beca can still see the startling clarity of Chloe's eyes; she still gets lost in them without fail.

"Happy birthday," Chloe says softly. "I had to pack these into the duffel by themselves so they wouldn't get too squashed and wrapping the ziplock and paper towels around the stems was a  _bitch_ , but I really wanted you to have these and I knew I wouldn't have been able to get them to you any other way." Chloe leans the bouquet forward a bit, biting her lip shyly. "I...picked out the colours, kind of remembering how you really liked them when I got them for you last time." There is no 'kind of' - every memory Chloe has of Beca is in startling vivid colour.

"They're beautiful," Beca says honestly. She reaches out tentatively to take them, feeling shy and nervous suddenly - more than she's ever felt in front of Chloe. She feels like she's in high school again, nervous and fluttering around her home for her first date. Or how she felt standing sitting in front of Chloe and Aubrey auditioning and not wanting to disappoint the girl with eyes that seem to pierce right through her. She wants to let those eyes pierce right through her. Beca feels like she can barely articulate anything. "I...you didn't have to get me anything."

"Of course I did. It's your birthday," Chloe responds. "I - you're one of the most important people in my life, so I wanted you to have this. Because it's your birthday and I..." She lets her voice taper off because she can't allow her own thought to be voiced, not in front of Beca like this. She clears her throat instead. "Happy birthday," she repeats, quieter, trying to silence the way her heart seems to cry out at being stifled again.

Beca's eyes shine and seem to glow as she takes the flowers, her own hand shaking ever so slightly. "Thank you."

 

* * *

 

Beca and Chloe head to the hotel where the girls are staying with their outfits and make-up for the night. Emily greets them in the lobby with a huge smile and an even bigger hug, squishing them all together for a miniature group hug. Chloe laughs happily, her hand sliding along Beca's back solidly in the midst of the hug.

"Hi Emily," Chloe says, eyes bright. Beca smiles at Chloe's never-ending enthusiasm for Emily and her general protective nature towards the girl, even after a few hiccups when they first met. "How's school? Managed to get away for the weekend?"

Emily links her arms with both of them, leading them into the hotel suite. "Yes! Um, school's been fun, I guess. I don't think a capella is going to be a thing for me anymore now that I'm working on my Masters, but I'm still writing, at least," she says with a tinge of longing. It makes Chloe sad to hear the wistful tone but she believes in Emily. She believes in all her friends, but especially her family.

"And where are you again?" Beca asks.

"NYU. I couldn't resist the city. I'm still not sure why they accepted me. I barely made the application deadline."

"You're a genius, obviously," Beca says confidently. "A tall, intelligent young woman." She catches Chloe pretending to wipe a tear, eliciting a smile out of both herself and Emily. "God, Legacy, weren't you just a baby?"

Emily's laugh echoes down the hallway of their floor. "I mean, if anybody's the baby, it's y-"

"Alright, only I'm allowed to make the height jokes from now on."

Emily throws open the hotel door with a flourish, whistling for attention.

"Chloe! Get over here!"

Chloe practically screams and throws herself at Aubrey even though they talk fairly frequently. She hears Beca swear somewhere behind them, but Aubrey is wrapping her hug in a firm hug before holding her at arm's length and assessing her with a critical eye.

Beca shakes her head at their antics (mainly Aubrey's mother hen nature) and ventures towards Fat Amy who is grinning at her from across the room. She's fixing Jessica's hair into some kind of extremely tight and - judging from Jessica's face - painful ponytail. 

"Took you two long enough," Amy says. "What on earth could the two of you have been up to," she drawls.

Beca ignores that. "We got stuck in traffic and our driver refused to drive one mile over the speed limit." She glances around. "Did you all get in alright? I'm really sorry I couldn't meet all of you, but I had to finish some work stuff after I got Chloe settled in."

Amy grins at her mischievously but doesn't elaborate or clarify her expression. She just allows Beca to be whisked away by Cynthia-Rose and Aubrey who want to wish her a happy birthday.

Cynthia-Rose presses a bottle of beer into her hands. "To start the night off right," she drawls. "Happy Birthday Beca!"

"Thanks for coming," Beca says. "I don't know how I'd make it through this circus without you all, honestly."

Beca takes a swig just as Aubrey claps her on the back somewhat aggressively. "Happy Birthday, Beca," she declares with the firmness and affection of an army captain. Beca is still spluttering when Chloe wanders over.

"Are we drinking already?" she asks brightly. She rubs Beca's back soothingly and sneaks the bottle out of her grasp to take a sip. Beca watches as Chloe's nose scrunches up a little bit as the alcohol goes down. Chloe catches Beca's gaze and smiles. "Let me do your hair," she says, pulling at Beca's hand. "Flo, can you do Beca's make-up?"

"Is anybody going to ask me whether I can do any of this by myself?" Beca asks as she's corralled into a chair by the vanity. Flo pinches her cheeks and tosses a bathrobe at her.

"No," Chloe chides, putting the beer back in front of Beca. "Because it's your birthday." She runs her fingers along Beca's shoulders before gripping them. It makes Beca's eyelids flutter. "You can offer suggestions as to how you want to have your hair done, but I have plans for you." She tugs lightly, playfully at the ends of Beca's hair. 

Beca has no real suggestions to offer because after she's slipped into the bathrobe, Chloe's fingers are flying through her hair, combing and brushing, and just being  _there_ right by Beca. She catches Chloe's eyes a few times in the mirror and receives a smile in return. Chloe's happiness is radiating off her in waves and her fingers occasionally brush against the side of Beca's cheek or neck. It's an experience that Beca just wants to lose herself in because Chloe's hands feel comfortable - at home - and intimate as they weave expertly through her hair. She thinks of Bellas performances or preparing for her first day of work or just Chloe braiding her hair when she was bored and needed something to do. It's familiar, yet frighteningly new because Chloe's smiles have a depth that Beca's never noticed before or she just never bothered to look up.

Chloe ends up styling Beca's hair into a semi-wavy state, combed over so that it falls gracefully over one shoulder, leaving her other shoulder bare. Chloe resists the urge to touch the expanse of neck that's been bared by the hairstyle and wonders what Beca chose for her outfit, hoping against hope that it would at least leave her shoulder revealed. She catches a glimpse of the make-up Flo's been working on, catching the tail-end of an argument about whether Beca needs more eyeliner.

"Your eyes already stand out," Chloe says tenderly. "Don't hide them."

Beca snaps her mouth shut. Flo rolls her eyes, muttering something about 'tension'.

Chloe disappears with Aubrey to finish up her own make-up and hair. Beca tugs out the jumpsuit was planning on wearing.

"A jumpsuit," Fat Amy drawls. "Of course."

"What?" Beca asks defensively. "I like jumpsuits." For her height, they make her legs look insane.

"I know. Chloe likes them too."

Beca scowls at her friend. "Can you stop?"

Fat Amy blinks innocently. "Stop what?" Beca sighs, pushing Amy out of the bathroom so she can change. "I'm only stating facts," Amy yells through the door. "You can't fight science!"

Beca tugs at the jumpsuit and ties the halter tie, tucking it behind her hair. She figures she does look  _good_ because the over the shoulder look accentuates her skin. She thinks about how Chloe's fingers had felt on her skin briefly while she had been fixing her hair.

Her phone buzzes, jolting her upwards. She gives herself another glance in the mirror before picking up the device.

It's Theo. _'Are you okay with us sending the cars over soon?'_

 _'One sec. Let me check where the girls are at.'_  

She exits the bathroom to see that everybody's pretty much ready, dressed to the nines and poured into dresses that Beca would have never thought these ladies would have ever owned. Aubrey is lecturing Emily about drinking too much. Jessica is chatting with Cynthia-Rose and Flo. Fat Amy is lounging on the couch, taking photos of everybody from time to time.

 _'They're ready.'_ she texts back wondering where Chloe got to.

And Chloe - Chloe is suddenly in her line of sight, striding towards her, hair loose and casual, eyes just slightly lined, and wearing a dress. Well, it's not just a dress, but Beca's own thoughts catch in her mind at the same time as her throat tightens. The dress is black, to start. It has a high collar that highlights the slopes of Chloe's neck. Then there's mesh. Lots of it. Beca can see through the mesh to the skin that lies behind it. It fits Chloe's body like how a little black dress is supposed to and it does so exceptionally well.

Chloe looks stunning. Beca is literally  _stunned_ because every time she sees Chloe, it's akin to seeing her again for the first time.

"You look beautiful," she says, or at least she thinks she does. She must at least mouth the words.

Chloe is standing in front of her. "Let's take a photo, birthday girl," she says and - God - it makes Beca want to just  _do things_ with and to Chloe. She's always had a weakness for Chloe's voice, knowing how well it pairs with her own.

"Okay," Beca says because it's all she can muster. She lets Chloe's arm snake around her shoulder and she hesitates for a moment before slipping an arm around her waist, tugging Chloe closer. Her heels are  _massive_ so they help her height. The added benefit is that Chloe leans her head against hers and it feels Beca with so much tenderness and affection that she's smiling even before Fat Amy raises her phone to snap a photo.

It's just one photo because the rest of the Bellas are piling into the photo and they're making use of the self-timer to take a group photo. Beca feels warm everywhere as everybody's bodies squish against hers. 

They all take a shot afterwards, giving cheers to Beca's happiness, well-being, and health. She's never felt better or more content.

The Bellas gather along the curb, waiting for the cars to pull up.

It's hard to miss. It's a small army of cars - Range Rovers specifically - and all the license plates say "Khaled". It makes Beca want to die, but she stifles it because her friends are laughing and whooping.

"I love how they sent like a million Range Rovers but they couldn't send a stylist," Beca says lightly as they pile in. She rides with Chloe because her driver told her she was only allowed to bring one person. Better for the photos. Odd rule, but Beca doesn't question it because Chloe's proximity makes her body hum.

"I like how your hair turned out," Chloe teases, flicking at a strand of hair. 

"Yes, your work is amazing."

Chloe smirks at her.

 

* * *

 

Boulevard3 is lavish and that's an understatement.

The space has been set up to be an open, chic party with tables and chairs lining the edges and a fairly open dance floor. Beca thinks she recognizes the DJ, but she can barely see beyond the strobe lights and the people. Beca doesn't know about three quarters of the people in attendance. She's grateful that they even allowed her to bring her friends.

It's exactly what Beca would have expected from Hollywood. All glitz and glamour. There's an area for taking photos with a backdrop. There's a cake that Beca isn't sure whether it's real or decorative because it's  _huge_.

"Holy shit," Cynthia-Rose exclaims. " _This_ is a party."

"Dibs on that waiter," Flo calls, pointing to a tall dark-haired man. "Oh," she says. "It's Theo."

Beca snorts at the expression on Theo's face. "Hello," she greets. "We made it in one piece, as you can see."

"I can see," Theo says. "Can I offer you some drinks, ladies? It's all on the house. Open bar."

"Thank God," Fat Amy says. "Okay, I'll see you losers later." Cynthia-Rose follows her.

Emily tugs Aubrey and Flo in the direction of the bar. "Let's go!"

"I can't believe you're legally allowed to drink," Aubrey is muttering as they walk away.

Theo holds his arms out. "Well, what would you like to do first, ladies?"

Chloe looks around, not even sure where to start. "Beca?" she asks instead.

"How about one drink?" Beca says with a lilt to her voice that Chloe hasn't quite heard before. At least, not directed towards her.

"Just one?"

"We'll see as the night goes on. I'll even let you pick the drink for me."

Chloe's mouth forms an 'o' as she follows behind Beca. Flirting. Yes.

Flirting, she can do.

"Wait," Theo exclaims. "Shit, sorry. I forgot - you need to take a few photos on the carpet. In front of the standee." He gives Chloe a cursory once-over. "You can bring your friend if you want."

Beca rolls her eyes. She can practically feel the tension radiating from both Theo and Chloe. "Yes, I want. Let's do that first then, Chlo."

They rope Aubrey, Emily, and Cynthia-Rose into taking some photos as well. The photographers are yelling things over the music and it makes Beca very confused. She tugs Chloe closer and they take a couple photos together before Theo mutters that she needs to take a few pictures alone.

Chloe gives her a thumbs up from the side, practically ignoring the photographers who are asking her who she is and whether they can take photos of her as well. It makes a small burst of pride well up inside Beca because yeah, Chloe's gorgeous. Well. All her friends are, but she tends to fixate on Chloe whenever they're together. It's not really something she can stop herself from doing.

It's not hard to glean that Beca's birthday 'event' is a networking event embedded in the glamour of Hollywood. She figured the label would have an ulterior motive because she honestly hasn't released anything yet. She's done a few covers, appeared alongside Khaled at a couple smaller events, done an interview here and there. But she hasn't said anything significant. She still doesn't know the answer to the question "Who is Beca Mitchell?" and she honestly doesn't know when she'll figure it out. She hopes that it's a fun ride, though.

Well, as Chloe drags her out to the dance floor, she supposes it could be pretty fun. They are however, stopped multiple times along the way because people just  _need_ to talk to Beca. They need to make sure Beca is content. Satisfied. People are asking Beca for her contact information for future meetings.

It takes them a while, but they make it. Chloe feels small suddenly, stepping closer to Beca.

It occurs to Chloe that Beca's life has changed drastically within the past few months, let alone the past few weeks. For as long as she's known Beca, Beca has always had this confident, sure air about her.

But Chloe has seen Beca vulnerable, upset, hurt, and scared. It terrifies her because of how helpless she feels because she wants to help Beca. She wants to be able to make things better for Beca and help her.

She hasn't seen the vulnerability recently, but she sees it under the strobe lights. She sees it even as Beca tugs her ever so slightly closer, their bodies barely brushing. 

Beca hasn't changed and Chloe doesn't expect that she will, but it's difficult and naive to believe that fame won't eventually have an effect on Beca in some way. Chloe doesn't doubt the genuineness and generosity of Beca's heart - Beca's heart is solid and made of gold, probably - but she worries that there might come a time when she can no longer fit into Beca's life. 

She loops an arm around Beca's neck.

God, she needs a drink. 

Beca can  _feel_ Chloe's body heat. There are other people, sure, but all she can feel with certainty is the way Chloe's body brushes against hers from time to time. She touches the mesh of Chloe's dress briefly before tugging her hand away. Chloe has been fairly quiet since they started dancing, which is concerning because her usually sunny disposition is what helps Beca understand how she's feeling.

She's about to ask, but she feels a hand on her shoulder that isn't Chloe's. Chloe glances over her shoulder at their newcomer.

"Beca, right? Theo sent me to get you. There are some people you have to meet."

"I - now?"

"Yes,  _now_." There's no room for argument. Beca grits her teeth, turning back to Chloe.

"I'll be right back."

"Bec, it's fine. I'll meet you at the bar."

Now she really needs a drink.

 

* * *

 

_**Brooklyn, NY (3 Years Ago)** _

Chloe stares as Beca continues to mope and sulk around the apartment. She moves from her bed to the kitchen, then back to her bed. It's a short walk, admittedly, but still depressing to watch.

"Do you want to...play a board game?" Chloe asks tentatively. 

"No, not really," Beca sighs. "I just...I want to be alone for a little bit."

"It's your birthday, Bec."

"I know. I just think it's pretty dumb that Jesse can't even fly his stupid, unemployed ass a few hours to come see me."

Chloe winces at the venom in Beca's tone. She agrees that Jesse has been... _lacking_ recently, though she isn't surprised to see this coming. It upsets her deeply that Beca is so upset. She wants Beca to just stop and maybe see that she doesn't need to be that affected by a boy who's across the country and unwilling to drop everything and be with her.

(Chloe doesn't offer any alternatives either because she can't even begin to find the strength to do so.)

She also doesn't fault Beca for anything because Jesse had been - still is - a serious relationship and Beca obviously feels some level of commitment to him. Chloe just wants Beca to feel like she  _can_ survive New York, even if it's just for one night.

Chloe spends the day preparing everything. She runs around town, invoking a vacation day she had been saving, and tries to find the best tulips she can get her hands on. She ends up with a gorgeous bouquet from a little boutique florist all the way in Hell's Kitchen and refuses the delivery service because she wants to ensure she can literally present Beca with the flowers at their apartment door.

"Do you know what colours you want?" the shopkeeper asks. He is a kind elderly gentleman who frequently polishes his glasses and squints everytime he speaks. Chloe looks at the whole wall of tulips, eyes nearly crossing.

"Um, they're for a friend. She's been going through a lot, so I wanted to help make this birthday better for her." Chloe fiddles with the strap of her bag nervously. "I don't know, honestly. I've never really bought flowers before. They all mean something, don't they?"

The old man fiddles with a tulip stem, contemplating her. Chloe shrinks a little under his gaze. "Yes," he says finally. "Tulips are very versatile in that their shape and form are easy on the eyes. Their variety of colours also affords a wide variety of meaning. Ultimately, flowers can mean whatever you want them to - sometimes they don't have to mean anything at all."

Chloe stares ahead at the tulip wall. She wants to say so many things - so many ideas and thoughts that she's never voiced. She wants to tell Beca how much she means to her, how she hates to see Beca upset. How she just wants to see her favourite shade of blue - dark blue - the same blue of Beca's eyes. She's tried to match that dark blue in her favourite scarf, but it doesn't come close, not at all.

Chloe thinks about the way Beca's cheeks flush when she's feeling particularly passionate about something, or the way Beca is obsessed with the strangest games, or the way Beca makes her tea when she thinks she's not feeling well. Chloe thinks about how Beca's head feels on her shoulder during movie night or how Beca never complains about staying up too late to watch a movie with Chloe, to begin with.

Chloe thinks about everything Beca has been through, how strong she's been and how goddamn inspiring Beca is to so many people around her. Beca's birthday should be a national holiday because Chloe is so grateful every day that Beca was put on this Earth and she counts her blessings that Beca continues to be a part of her life. She'll take Beca's friendship in whatever form she can get because she thinks Beca is worth every ounce of heartache because Beca makes her want to be better even when she doesn't realize it.

She doesn't say any of that. She doesn't know if she ever will. Instead, she opens the floodgates a tiny bit, stares unflinchingly at the man. "I just want her to know that she's worth it and she always will be in my eyes. I want her to know...that I think she's amazing and she deserves the entire world."

He watches her - as he did when she had been contemplating silently - and nods once. "I have a book of meanings. You can choose to look or not, but I'm going to pick out a couple colours. Let me know if it looks OK or if you want to add another colour."

He gathers a mix of red and white. Chloe stares at the meanings on the piece of paper, feeling tears well up in her eyes. "Yes," she says softly. "I want to add one more." She selects one of the variegated kinds, pushing the other meanings to the back of her mind. "She has beautiful eyes," she says pointing to the variegated blend to the side. "Can I...can you add that, please?" She swallows. "The red and white are perfect."

She decides to take a cab home with the flowers so she doesn't get jostled by commuters. She flies up the stairs and bursts through the door only to see Beca skyping Jesse, a slight smile on her face. 

She recoils, trying to maintain a calm facade in the face of trauma.

"Oh, Chloe's home," Beca exclaims. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Jesse." She shuts the laptop without hesitation and turns to Chloe, looking marginally more cheerful. Her eyes fall on the bouquet of flowers in Chloe's grasp. "What are those?"

"They - they're for you," Chloe says lamely. "I - uh," she coughs. "Happy Birthday!"

It's so easy to lose herself in a fantasy or imagined world where it's just her and Beca against everybody else. She tries to force down nausea, partly from running up the stairs so quickly.

"For me?" Beca asks, standing from her bed. "I'm...Wow, they're beautiful," she says in awe.

"They are," Chloe says, biting her lip. "I - I thought we could have a girl's night. Because it's just you and me tonight."

It's not that she wants it to be  _just_ them forever. It's that she's always manoeuvring to figure out how to be a part of Beca's life because she can't imagine her own life without Beca.

It hurts too much to even think about.

 

* * *

 

_**Boulevard3, Los Angeles (Present)** _

 

Chloe props herself up against a table, dropping her empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter. She watches Beca mingling and networking, shaking hands with people who will only help advance Beca's career.

She's finished two cocktails and downed about three shots. It's a little bit of a game. She tries to make her way to Beca occasionally, but there's always another person - another celebrity. Chloe drinks whenever she's foiled in her attempts to make her way to Beca. She just wants to be with Beca for her birthday. 

They present her with business cards and the promise of money. Chloe stares at the arrangements of flowers all around the the hall, expensive and full. She then thinks of her own bouquet that she had to transport in a fucking duffel to get them to Beca in a timely manner.

She's never felt inadequate to Beca and she definitely doesn't currently, but she does feel out of place. Like everything is too big for her to fill. The spaces are growing and the people are more powerful. She wonders if the distance will no longer purely be physical when she goes back to Davis, but on every level possible.  _This_ \- this is what Beca's life has in store for her. Chloe's going to be a veterinarian, she knows that with certainty.

(In a strange way, it does feel like she kind of belongs, because there are people she doesn't know coming up to her and asking if she's 'Chloe' with a tone and a smirk. She just smiles, takes a swig of her drink, and nods. L.A. is odd.)

"Hi," Beca says, out of breath. "There you are. Have you just been drinking?" she asks, taking in the flush that she can see even under the low lighting.

"Hey you. I - I'm sorry I didn't want to embarrass you or anything while you were talking. Happy birthday!" she reaches out to grip Beca's shoulder.

"Honestly, I could have used some back-up," Beca says lightly. "They're all vultures." She taps her finger on Chloe's hand to get her to look up. "Besides, you could never embarrass me. Promise. Do you...do you want to dance again?" Beca sounds shy suddenly.

"I -" Chloe swallows, the memory still fresh. "I'm...sure, OK."

Beca holds out an arm, stopping her. "Wait. Are you sure?" Beca asks, immediately lifting a hand to touch Chloe's forehead. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Chloe responds quickly. She shakes her head slightly to clear the fog that appears as Beca's proximity closes in.

Beca is still feeling her forehead when a tall, leggy brunette with sharp eyes and a clipboard appears by their sides.

"Beca, maybe we can send _your friend_ home if she's not feeling well. There are still so many people you have to meet." 

Chloe shakes her head. "I'm fine, honestly." And she is fine. Mostly.

Beca stares at her. "Do you want to go home?"

"No, we should stay," Chloe says, eyes darting to the lady who is giving her a death glare. "I honestly didn't drink that much."

"I kinda want to go home," Beca says suddenly. "Let's go home," she says, grabbing Chloe's hand.

"Wait," Susan-Millie-What's her face says nervously. "DJ Khaled hasn't even arrived yet. You've been here for only an hour and a half."

Beca feels like she's aged a million years. "I'm tired," she says simply. "Consider this your birthday present for me. Tell Theo that I'm disappointed he didn't give me the burgers I asked for."

"Wait," she says, reaching out to grab Chloe's arm instead of Beca's. Beca jolts, stopping in her tracks.

"I'm fine," Chloe says softly.

“Back off, dude,” Beca says - working to keep her frustration out of her voice - to the woman she now recognizes as part of the PR and Marketing department. "Seriously,  _Susan_ ," she says firmly. "I've got her. We're tired. We're going home."

"The press," Susan says quietly, or at least, she starts to. It doesn't matter that she's worked in the industry for years or that she's taller than Beca by about half a foot. She simply nods and walks away when Beca's eyes cut to hers.

Beca knows that Chloe isn't that drunk or overly intoxicated, but she's still concerned because she saw Chloe downing at least three shots. At least Chloe is still walking upright and not jumping into any bodies of water.

"We're leaving," Beca says shortly. It makes Chloe wince. She watches as Beca says goodbye to Fat Amy and Cynthia-Rose. The Bellas are staying apparently and it makes Chloe even more guilt-wracked. It's Beca's  _birthday_ and she was moping like a twelve-year-old girl who was just rejected by her schoolyard crush.

"I just...really wanted to spend time with you," Chloe says lamely when Beca comes back. She wraps her jacket around her shoulders tightly because she feels cold. She's cold because Beca doesn't say anything immediately.

"I wanted to spend time with you too," Beca finally says. She doesn't sound angry or upset. She just sounds like...Beca. Matter-of-fact, honest. "Of course I did. Of course I  _do_." It sends staggering relief coursing through Chloe. She closes her eyes, waiting for a 'but'.

It never comes.

Instead, Beca puts an arm around her shoulders (it's the heels, Chloe thinks) and guides her towards the curb where she flags down a cab expertly. It shouldn't be a turn on, but Chloe is by all definitions, turned on. She is also drunk, so she settles into the cab as primly as she can.

The cab swerves as they round the corner, propelling Chloe against Beca's side. She struggles, pushing herself up only to have her breath catch when Beca's eyes lock onto hers. 

The tense moment is ruined (or saved) by their cab driver honking impatiently at a car attempting a three-point turn in front of them.

Chloe sighs, buckling her seatbelt.

 

* * *

 

"You _are_ drunk, liar," Beca says affectionately. She helps Chloe into the apartment, hands firmly on her waist. 

"I'm not that drunk," Chloe corrects. She sighs, rubbing her face, willing herself to just stop spinning for a moment. She's grown tired over the past half-an-hour, finally feeling the alcohol catching up with her. It warms her blood and flows through her. Not uncomfortably yet, but enough to make her wish she hadn't downed those so quickly. Beca gently helps her out of her jacket and hangs it up. "Thank you," she says hoarsely. "I'm so, so sorry. I ruined your birthday. I...couldn't even get you nice flowers," she gestures at the flowers Beca has set up in a vase by her desk.

"I love the flowers you got me. I love all the flowers you get me," Beca says, dropping her purse on the side table. She kicks off her heels, encouraging Chloe to do the same. "What's going on, Chlo?" She reaches out to brush errant strands of hair out of Chloe's eyes.

The feel of Beca's colder fingers against her warm skin makes Chloe's head spin. She wants to sit - she wants to grab Beca's arm and pull her closer - she wants to just sleep it all away.

She settles for pulling Beca in for a hug, right in the middle of her living room.

"Why'd you bring me back here?" Chloe mumbles, just taking in how Beca feels in her arms; she feels complete. "Aubrey's going to wonder why I'm not at the hotel with her."

"You're staying with me, silly," Beca says, gently extracting herself from the hold, though she stays in Chloe's personal space. "Your stuff is here, remember? I just didn't have enough space to hold everybody."

"I get dibs," Chloe says, petulance seeping into her voice.

Beca laughs at that because she might be a little drunk too. "You do get dibs."

Everything feels warm. Chloe is close to her face.

Closer now.

Beca wonders if her eyes betray anything that she's feeling inside. Chloe's eyes dart down to her lips.

Chloe’s proximity makes her head spin. It's the proximity from their hug at the bus stop. It's the proximity from their ride in the cab. It's the proximity that has always been verging on something more that both excites and terrifies Beca.

It's the proximity that dreams are made of, but the worst kind of dreams because it always feels like Beca's about to wake up before the best part. 

“Is this going to happen?” Beca asks, unable to stop her word vomit. She leans back against the back of the couch - Chloe's makeshift bed for the night. “It’s..happening,” she says slowly - her eyes are tracked on Chloe's face which is now right in front of her own face - because she’s now narrating every important milestone in her life.

Chloe seems to smile then, which Beca can neither confirm nor deny because she now feels it more than she sees it. Peppermint wafts just under her nose. Her eyes fixate on the way that Chloe’s eyelashes flutter against her cheek before they open again. Beca braces herself then - braces herself for the clear blue; for the eyes she has basically memorized over the past eight years. She cannot imagine what life would be like without those eyes and refuses to recall that period when she thought to look at them hurt her more than she could ever imagine. Beca knows right then that she’s just going to slip right into the abyss behind them – or at least fall right into Chloe.

Chloe can practically see the wheels churning behind Beca’s eyes. It's a little blurry around the edges, but she focuses on Beca's face because Beca grounds her whenever she feels like she might float off. Beca grounds her when she feels like she's going to fly away into a daydream or sink into a nightmare. Beca is the only daydream she needs. She smiles again, relishing the feeling of just  _being_ there with Beca and having their lips pressing ever so slightly together. Beca's lips are soft - or they feel like it.

It's intoxicating, more so than tequila or vodka or even a good glass of red wine.

Chloe takes a breath – barely - before she closes the minuscule distance between them, brushing her lips across Beca's and taking her by surprise. Beca doesn't react at first, which makes Chloe’s body tense in disappointment. Before she pulls away, she lingers just for a moment because she wants to hope against hope. The moment before she feels her heart splinter and her eyelids flutter before her tears, Beca’s lips part and recapture hers warmly and tenderly, in a way that puts her own daydreams to shame. Chloe surges forward again, this time to just press her body closer to Beca’s because Beca, somewhere down the line learned how to kiss. Chloe falls like the willing victim she is because, well, Beca _knows_ how to kiss. She's tender and generous with her lips and hands. The pull between them only intensifies and Chloe finds herself floating infinitely above the haze of alcohol. The attraction is real – so real that it’s sobering and she knows that she wants more.

She wants to kiss Beca again. She's not sure when she stopped.

"S'okay," Chloe says to nobody in particular, her breath washing over Beca's face. She presses her lips against Beca's again, slanting her lips deliciously - perfectly. Beca sinks into it, letting the light buzz of alcohol that's coursing through her own system take over for a moment because it does feel that  _damn good_. Chloe's lips are soft and almost exactly how Beca had imagined it, staring at her ceiling late into the night.

Chloe focuses - all her energy goes into focusing - on the way Beca's hands glide across the bared skin on her back, wandering occasionally just past the openings of her dress. The mesh scratches against her skin in a teasing way because she knows that it's Beca's hand on the other side. It feels nice. She wants to do it too. She slides her hands from Beca's cheeks to her neck, ghosting her fingers over the skin, as soft as she's always envisioned. The vein in Beca's neck feels more prominent under her wandering fingers. She slides them to the straps of Beca's jumpsuit - the fucking jumpsuit - teasing the skin just under the fabric. Beca's tongue glides against her lower lip.

It makes Chloe blackout for about half a second.

That - the fact that they're actually kissing again - baffles Beca for one second before she realizes what exactly is happening. She responds instinctively because she has pretty much always known what would happen when Chloe kissed her. The softness of Chloe's lips stun her into submission and then reaction.

“Wait –” she mutters - or mumbles - for the sake of speaking as opposed to actually wanting to stop this. Her entire body protests.

It’s too much at once – or, it feels that way at least. ‘Too much’ meaning that it feels like that overwhelming sense one gets while standing in front of an endless buffet. Or that acute adrenaline rush when having limitless money in an electronics store, in the music aisle. Chloe’s obviously had experience kissing because it’s wonderful and it makes Beca want to  _sing_. Beca thinks she probably isn’t bad at it either because Chloe’s hand is definitely gripping the fabric of Beca’s clothing, cinched at her waist a bit tighter than before.

Beca is becoming increasingly aware of the fact that one of her own hands is now kind of just, sitting there on Chloe’s shoulder. She forces her other hand up – up to Chloe’s other shoulder before she twists her fingers into the hair at Chloe’s nape, eliciting a soft groan that makes Beca feel giddy and gleeful. She feels Chloe shift closer and the way it makes their lips kind of slide together makes Beca want to die immediately. But the best kind of death. She could write songs about this kind of death because Chloe’s lips feel like every dream she’s ever had since she was five years old. Holding Chloe awkwardly by the shoulder and neck feels like every self-deprecating thought from the past eight years of knowing Chloe Beale doesn’t matter. It feels like she’s finally suspended in time; suspended in the present. It feels-

“Stop thinking so much,” Chloe whispers and the way it makes their lips brush  _again_ produces a sensation that reverberates through Beca’s body like a fucking shockwave, or like the first time she ever tried pop rocks.

Beca can't help but overthink things. It gets her through the day.

But even as Chloe tugs her forward and their feet are moving, she can only think about how Chloe's eyes look in the dim light and how nice Chloe's hands feel on her own.

“I can’t help it,” Beca replies, with a desperate twinge. Alcohol makes her whiny, but she's taking measured steps too. "I overthink things. Always, especially with you."

Chloe takes pause at that, then she leans forward again, eyes briefly darting down to Beca's lips. She bites her lip. The lip bite causes Beca to groan.

"I can't help it either," Chloe says softly. "Not when it comes to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for making it through. Hit me up on Tumblr (isthemusictoblame) or on Twitter @tizzleshizzle if you want to talk about anything - anything at all!
> 
> Can I just say: the support I've received for this fic - my first foray into the Pitch Perfect fanfiction - has been incredible. Thank you all so much for reading, for stopping by, for leaving comments. It makes my day. I was pretty...sad when I first started writing the fic. It served more as a healing tool for myself.
> 
> But you've all joined me on this journey and I'm so, so, so grateful. See you in the next half of this fic!


	6. took my heart upon a one way trip...

_**Los Angeles, California (7 months ago)** _

When Beca wakes up, she's disoriented. She stares at the pure, snowy white ceiling, feels a warmth around her instead of cold, and hears silence instead of clanging pipes.

It's eerie.

It's her the end of her first month waking up in Los Angeles and she feels utterly alone, the feeling of which has been building and growing like a tumour. It rests heavy on Beca's chest, sometimes crushing her as she falls asleep and only barely dissipating as she wakes up.

Like today. Falling asleep is a bitch, more so than usual.

When Beca wakes up, she's disoriented because she can't hear the sound of Fat Amy talking on her phone or the sound of Chloe humming in the kitchen or singing in the bathroom. She can't hear the sounds of Chloe and Amy arguing over who should use the washroom first.

She doesn't hear the sound of Chloe's voice in her ear, asking her if she's awake, if she's ready to seize the day, if she's just pretending to be asleep, goddamnit Beca Mitchell.

She can't feel the press of Chloe's hands against her shoulders, teasing her awake because she might be late for work.

She struggles to remember what it felt like when Chloe would fall asleep in her bed and they'd wake up both confused and disoriented for a moment, but only for a moment, because they'd settle back down, slightly into each other, drawing comfort and warmth.

Beca finds herself following the train of thought where she asks herself if she made the right decision, leaving it all behind.

It's a dangerous one because she's never believed in sacrifice for no reason at all. She knows the draw of making her own music is  _huge_ and she knows that Chloe would probably kill her if she backed out now. Then Chloe would bring her back to life only to frogmarch her back to Los Angeles and force her to sit down and do her job.

It's too late, anyway. She's going to sign contracts. She's going to meet important people.

Her apartment feels ridiculously empty and hollow. She can't make herself fill the corners because she's never felt this truly alone before.

She thinks about calling Chloe, asking her how she's been, but the smallest part of her mind chides her for it, berates her for trying to draw out the pain of distance. 

Beca hasn't had any good experience with distance. It makes her feel helpless because physical spaces have always been difficult for her to make any kind of foothold. Her father was distant figuratively, then literally when he moved halfway across the country, leaving her with her mother. Jesse was distant literally then figuratively when they had to live on opposite coasts. 

It never bodes well for her because she freefalls and lands in a heap without fail, everytime.

But, the other tiny part of her mind - only slightly bigger than than her darkest corner - reminds her of Chloe's hugs, of Chloe's smiles, and the way Chloe's very personality was the opposite of distance. She's all intimacy, closeness, and breaking down the walls shielding Beca's vulnerability.

Beca listens to the quiet hum of her air conditioning.

She can hold out for a while.

She doesn't call.

She can't.

 

* * *

 

_**Los Angeles, California (Present)** _

The world spins slowly when she’s with Chloe. She knows that now.

That's the first thought that flits in and out of her mind, through her muddled consciousness. Beca wakes up naturally with the sunlight even if she’s up late the night before. Her second thought is a vivid memory of Chloe shoving her back on the cot and both of them a mess of limbs and fingers in each other’s hair.  

Chloe is practically on top of her, head nestled against Beca’s shoulder, one hand gripping the fabric of her rumpled jumpsuit and her hair in a complete disarray. It’s completely adorable and Beca cannot resist lightly running her fingers up and down Chloe’s back, slipping her hand through the unzipped fabric of her dress. She flushes at the reminder, but brushes it away, focusing on the expanse of skin she can touch – that she has touched.

Chloe’s mouth on hers, on her cheeks, on her neck – up and down – the way Chloe’s hands had wandered and their legs had tangled when they collapse on the cot, a mix of exhaustion and arousal, each feeling warring with the other unforgivingly.

Beca halts that line of thought, squeezing her eyes shut. She knows now that they should have talked first before kissing and letting it progress to more kissing, but she was addicted the moment she had a taste. Talking could wait, and it did - until this morning.

Her body warms in response to her memory and she sighs, not wanting to open her eyes. She can still feel the press of Chloe’s body against hers, the way their fingers brush under the sheet, mostly because Chloe  _is_ pressed against her. It's comfortable and not inappropriate, but intimate. It reminds Beca of waking up next to Chloe on cold New York mornings and the way she'd jolt her hands away in fear of her own raging feelings, brewing up a storm inside her chest and flooding her mind with unwanted images.

She contemplates waking Chloe or just continuing to mega-creep and lie there only to listen to Chloe's slow, measured breaths. Her breath is warm across Beca’s neck.

"That tickles," says Chloe lowly, suddenly, voice heavy with sleep and slightly creaky due to the alcohol-induced dryness in her throat. She shifts, trying to get her back away from Beca’s hand, only to fold herself further into Beca’s side comfortably. Chloe’s tired expression marginally brightens once she registers Beca’s presence and Beca’s arm around her. "Beca," she murmurs, her voice sticking in her throat. She doesn't say anything more, eyes only opening just a bit more to take in the fact that she's there.

Beca bites her lip, watches Chloe’s eyes track the movement, and is smitten. She cups Chloe’s cheeks gently, pressing a kiss to her nose; Chloe scrunches her nose from the action. It makes Beca smile and she feels more awake. "I'll be back,” she says reluctantly, climbing out of the warm cocoon. 

(Chloe's lips press once against Beca's neck as she settles down next to Chloe for the night, a mark of unfiltered affection that warms Beca from head to toe.)

Chloe's response is muffled as she presses her face into Beca’s vacated pillow, presumably to sleep again.

Beca wanders into the master bathroom, picking up casual clothes along the way. She breathes a sigh of relief when she washes and scrubs off the make-up from the party, shucks off her crumpled and wrinkled jumpsuit and practically leaps into her comfortable shorts and t-shirt combo. She feels more like a human being once she brushes her hair, and then basically feels like a God once she brushes her teeth.

After, she throws up her hair into a bun then she washes her face again for good measure before she stares hard at her reflection.

Seeing herself in the mirror, she is astounded at the sheer relief and shimmer of happiness in her own eyes. She can see the tiniest (barely there) of smiles on her lips. The smile fades slightly when she sees some evidence of the previous night: a small mark just under her jaw, and another on the other side of her neck. It makes her flush heatedly instead and she turns away from her reflection as memories creep into her mind.

Tea. She can make tea for Chloe.

Chloe digs her fingers into the pillow, mind flooding with every memory from the previous night. She struggles to put them all in chronological order, but her mind insists on reliving the previous night without the haze of alcohol. She feels a flush rising on her cheeks partly in pleasure and partly in embarrassment. Chloe shifts restlessly, thinking of the very first time she ever wanted to grab Beca and just kiss her shamelessly, unapologetically. The thought at the time had surprised her, but she allowed it to linger because she had been curious.

Her curiosity remained unsatiated for years.

Until last night.

("You can - here," Chloe mumbles against Beca's increasingly frenzied kisses. She pushes Beca's hand to the zip at the back of her dress, desperate to feel some contact after incessant teasing of mesh against her overheated skin. Beca seems to freeze, but only for the barest of seconds because she's pushing Chloe further into the uncomfortable cot - a more aggressive and passionate side that sends Chloe reeling physically and emotionally - and slowly unzipping her dress ever so slightly, but with reverence. "Oh," Chloe says breathlessly - barely manages to say - when Beca's lips dip somewhere along the underside of her jaw and her nails are slowly scraping down her bare back. As revenge, she slides her hand into the open back of Beca's jumpsuit, just barely grazing the curves and smooth skin she has always dreamt of. Chloe's barely keeping score, but it works.)

They hadn't done anything that would constitute a complete sexual experience and Chloe is thankful for that, at least. She lets her mind wander to the possibilities, but only for a moment. She remembers whispering that she was tired somewhere down the line with her hand planted firmly on Beca's ass, still recalling - reeling from - the feel of Beca's mouth on hers. She remembers the way her lips had prickled ever so slightly - a mark of being at least a little bit swollen, something reflected on Beca's face when she caught a glimpse. She remembers the pause, then the feel of the cot dipping as Beca agreed, and moved the blankets over Chloe's body.

She remembers tugging at Beca's hand and asking if she'd please stay.

 _Please_.

(Beca's eyes soften even further - her cheeks are flushed - as she slides slowly back under the sheet next to Chloe. "Of course," she says, as if she has anywhere else she would rather be.)

She remembers falling asleep, hazily feeling Beca's arm sliding gently - securely - around her waist.

It makes Chloe think of other firsts she wants to share with Beca, more experiences down the road. The unbidden desires and fantasies make her stomach clench in an unpleasant anxiety. She stops her line of thought deciding that maybe she should brush her teeth first.

When Beca finishes making tea for Chloe and coffee for herself, she notes that Chloe's not in her bed-sofa anymore. It makes her nervous, the thought that Chloe is more awake now and more likely to want to talk and ask questions. It's a good kind of nervous, however, because she finally feels like something in her life is going exactly the way she wants it to go and she's excited, maybe, for the future.

Beca sits on the opposite couch, cradling her own mug of coffee while Chloe's tea rests steaming on the coffee table. She allows herself to fall down the rabbit hole just for a moment, envisioning making tea for Chloe every morning. A quiet moment while she mixes a few tracks here and there and Chloe is humming and bustling around getting ready for work. It's perfect.

It's a future.

Beca sinks even further into the couch at the thought of it. She has rarely given much thought to the future and what it holds because of consistent disappointment, but she could grow to appreciate it, even love it.

She smiles into her coffee, only barely registering as Chloe pads out of the bathroom, looking a million times more refreshed than Beca even though she's just changed into jeans and a t-shirt, hair falling in soft waves past her shoulders. Beca can see the barest hint of bruising on the underside of Chloe's jaw. It makes Beca's throat close up a little bit. 

"Hi," Chloe says in surprise when she sees Beca sitting on the couch. Her eyes flit to the mug. "Is that for me?"

Beca nods, not trusting herself to speak. 

Chloe smiles, padding towards Beca and settling cross-legged on the couch beside her. They both stare at the cot in reflective silence.

"I...thank you for staying last night," Chloe says to break the silence. She lets the steam of her mug wash over her face so she can hide the blush rising on her cheeks. A quick peek at Beca tells her that she's blushing as well. 

Beca clears her throat. "I wanted to." It's a sentence that's bolder than she feels, but it's true.

The words after that become trapped inside them, neither knowing exactly what to say. There are a million paths to follow and each with their own set of problems, but the possibilities are seemingly endless and rife with sheer potential.

"I've never been kissed like that before," Beca says quietly, drawing in a quick breath. She doesn't know if it's too soon. Chloe is one of the few people - sometimes the  _only_ person - who makes her feel like she's too big for her own skin.

What Chloe wants to say in response is "I want you" but instead, she manages a timid, hesitant "Can I kiss you again?" which she supposes is the same thing, considering everything.

Beca's cheeks flush again and she tries not to nod too eagerly because she's been thinking about it all morning. She wants to tell Chloe that she doesn't need to ask, that she's allowed to do that whenever she pleases, but the words get stuck.

Chloe kisses her, lips parting ever so slightly. Beca inhales at the sensation and tries not to drop her mug.

Beca's phone buzzes a couple times, then rings obnoxiously from her purse. She jolts away, nearly splashing coffee on herself.

"I should get that," Beca states, though it comes out as more of a question.

"Okay?" Chloe replies with same questioning inflection. She ignores the way her heart is racing. "I'll be here," she adds, a softer edge to her tone.

Beca practically dashes to her phone. It's Theo. She makes a low noise in the back of her throat and pushes the answer button with more force than necessary for a touch-screen phone. "What?" She can't help the tone she uses. She was in the middle of something. She doesn't make the rules.

"I heard you left early last night."

"I did. I was tired." It's true.

"You signed a contract with us, you know that, right?" His voice is soft but the seriousness in it isn't lost on Beca.

"Yes," Beca says shortly. "I was there. Signing it, all those months ago."

"I don't know how to put this nicely since you're my  _boss_ and all." His tone is not quite venomous, but it lacks its usual mellow calmness. "But you're walking a thin line."

This entire conversation puts Beca on edge. "It was my fucking birthday, dude," she hisses into the phone not caring about her choice of words. She moves into the kitchen because she can feel Chloe's eyes on her back. "I went home because I was tired, I barely knew anybody there, and I figured it was fine because my friends were having a good time. I did your whole media circus thing. I brought my friends because _you_ thought it'd be good for publicity. You're fucking lucky that I _like_ my fucking friends and wanted to see them."

"Beca," Theo says placatingly. It makes her want to punch her phone. Or him. "Beca, this is all for you. Your album. Your future. Think of the awards and the connections! Sometimes you have to pick and choose in this industry." The implication is not lost on Beca and she feels her temper rise further.

She hears Chloe moving in the living room.

"No, I don't," she says immediately, feeling wide awake. "Not me."

"Chloe's a nice girl," Theo says, seemingly out of the blue, but he's anything but innocent. "But she'll still be there when you're done your album."

That makes Beca's throat close up because it's a reminder that no, she doesn't know if Chloe will still be there. They've been on the precipice of something for so long that Beca has no idea which side they're going to fall down. It only makes her more frightened, more insecure, and even angrier that Theo would even dare to bring up Chloe's name to invigorate her. She absolutely hates him in that moment.

She ends the call.

Chloe sets her mug down, doing her best to ignore the way Beca's voice had been steadily rising. She's not an idiot, but she does kind of appreciate Beca's irritation over the entire situation. She figures she can at least pack since her flight is leaving in the evening.

It's all so surreal; Chloe cannot believe that she and Beca are finally on even footing. At least, it feels that way for the time being.

"Hey," Beca says, returning. She tosses her phone on the couch, her eyes following Chloe's movements. Her train of thought fades. "Are you packing already?"

"Yeah. I think we're getting lunch. With the girls," she adds, looking down. "Aubrey texted while you were on the phone." She feels shy under Beca's gaze.

"Oh!" Beca brightens. "I'll get dressed, then." It makes Chloe smile because Beca really does love the Bellas with all her heart. She watches Beca dart into her room to change and it makes the heaviness that has settled on her chest lighter but only by a fraction.

They don't end up talking about it.

At lunch, Beca tries not to touch Chloe - she really does. But it happens anyway. It's a little touch on the knee, a slight squeeze of her arm. It's an arm resting on the back of Chloe's chair. 

But Chloe can't help it either. She steals food off Beca's plate, lets Beca steal her food. She grips Beca's thigh, lets her hand linger when their fingers brush.

It's like tearing down walls and foregoing years of restraint because they're trying to live out every missed opportunity before Chloe has to leave. It hangs above them like a cloud, adds a little sadness to their eyes.

If anybody else notices anything about their behaviour, they don't mention it. They continue ribbing Beca for being one year older. They ask Beca questions about her plans for the year. It's very...normal. It feels a little bit unsettling because Beca feels like her entire world tilted the previous night and nobody can tell that she's questioning everything. Theo's words ring in her mind. Chloe's face floats in and out of her vision - both mentally and in reality. She tries to focus, using Chloe as an anchor to the reality she wants to be in, which is with her closest friends, enjoying lunch after a night out. Her phone continues blowing up with text messages from a slew of people she doesn't need to know.

"I hope you had a good birthday, Beca. You disappeared last night," Emily inquires. "Where'd you go?"

"Don't have to be so nosy, Legacy," Fat Amy drawls. Beca catches her eyes nervously. Amy just smiles behind her glass of water.

"Yes, where did you go?" Aubrey asks. She points her fork at Beca. "You left your own birthday party early!"

"I went...home," Beca says lamely.

"I wasn't feeling well," Chloe chimes in. "I drank too much. Again."

Emily's brow furrows as if she's piecing something together. Beca narrows her eyes at her. There's nothing to piece together, at least, not yet. Nothing that she wants to leave the bubble she's created with Chloe.

Aubrey tsks at Chloe lightly. "When's your train heading out?" she asks. "We're going to the airport after lunch."

Beca's hand had been sneakily playing with the ends of Chloe's hair behind her seat, but she pauses at the question, letting her hand drop to her side.

"Oh," Chloe says, trying not to sound too disappointed at the popped bubble. "I'm actually flying back to Sacramento, then my roommate is picking me up. It's going to take way too long on a train because I have a class tomorrow morning. At least, if I want to avoid looking like a disaster."

Beca thinks that Chloe would probably look beautiful in any situation. Like now, just wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans, laughing with their friends.

The simplicity of it all makes Beca's heart ache.

 

* * *

 

Beca uses her keycard to swipe them both in, smiling at the security guard who eyes them suspiciously. Chloe just beams at him as well, pointing at Beca. "She's the artist," she says with pride. 

"I'm pretty sure that doesn't mean anything to him," Beca jokes. 

"It means something to me." Before Beca can dwell on that, Chloe's eyes are drawn to the long hallway, adorned with achievements and records. She excitedly runs up to nearly everyone, examining the photos and record-breaking hits. "This will be you one day," Chloe says, looking at a label that says PLATINUM. There's another that says DIAMOND.

Beca shows Chloe around, pointing out various interns' desks. She shows Chloe her smaller workspace. She sees Chloe's eyes linger on the photos of their time with the Bellas at Barden. On the photos of just them together. 

They reach the recording studio - Beca's favourite place - and Beca reverently opens the door, allowing Chloe in first.

There's a moment of silence because she wants to take it in. Two of her favourite things: her recording space and Chloe. They mix beautifully. She can't help but reach out to hold Chloe's hand, intertwining their fingers. Her relationship with music and her relationship with Chloe are two of the most turbulent experiences she's ever had, but she's never experienced anything more real or authentic than when she's creating a mix of her emotions or when she's holding Chloe's hand.

"Can I go in there?" Chloe asks, squeezing Beca's hand. She's pointing at the sound booth.

"Yeah, of course," Beca says in as steady a voice as she can muster. "I can run some soundchecks on you if you want. Try not to break anything though. I'm not rich enough yet to replace all this stuff."

Chloe rolls her eyes. "I'm not going to break anything." Beca watches as Chloe practically bounces into the booth. She does a little twirl around, giving Beca a thumbs up from the other side of the glass. Beca returns it, unable to stop the smile. She loves Chloe's playfulness and general happiness.

Chloe looks at the various instruments lining the back wall.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Beca jumps out of her skin, whirling around. It's Theo. He walks towards the booth, squinting past the glass. "Is that Chloe? What is she doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" she asks in return. "Get out, dude."

"I could ask you the same question." Theo crosses his arms. "Some of us are serious about this career of yours, so  _some of us_ are working overtime to make sure this album gets made on time."

"It's a Sunday!" Beca exclaims, throwing her hands up. "Who works on a Sunday?"

Theo narrows his eyes at her. "You're not allowed to bring unauthorized guests in."

"You are such a dick," Beca snaps. She knows he's being an excessive asshole because of the party. "I authorize her. Me. I'm the authorizer. I'm just showing her around. Nobody's even here today."

"I'm here," he points out.

"My point exactly."

Theo smiles. "Always the charmer, aren't you?" He tilts his head at the booth. "Is she going to sing or not?"

Beca fiddles with a few buttons. "I mean, if she wants to." She'd love it if Chloe sang, but - "Not for you though. Get out," she repeats.

"We could help get her on a few tracks. It's always easier when you're both in the industry. Just say the word."

Beca clenches her fists. " _No_." She's barely even managed to make sense of what's happening between her and Chloe and here Theo is making assumptions about everything they're going through, pretending to know that he understands everything that they've taken on  _together_. 

Chloe catches sight of them and waves hesitantly. She begins to make her way out of the booth, putting down the headphones she had been examining.

"Hi," she greets, reaching out to shake Theo's hand. It baffles Beca how polite Chloe can be, but she might be biased because she's used to being a complete shit to Theo and sometimes people in general. "Long time no see, Theo." 

"Getting the tour?" Theo says in a friendly voice that makes Beca's skin crawl. She steps closer to Chloe. "Beca's album is coming along beautifully. I can't wait for you to hear it. The world is going to fall in love with her."

Beca shoots him a surprised look.  _Where the fuck did that come from?_

"I'm sure," Chloe replies. She plays with the strap of her handbag. "Are you working today?"

"Yes," Theo says lightly. "Just working on Beca's album." He sighs. "And you - you're heading back home, right?"

Chloe's posture slumps a little bit. "I - yeah. Later tonight."

"Well, you're always welcome to come visit anytime. It's great that you're so supportive of Beca."

Beca is quietly plotting his death by the time he leaves. Chloe turns to her, eyebrow arched. "What was that all about?"

"What was what?"

"That - the weird tension between you two. Did you guys fight?"

"Yeah, he was just...ignore him. He's just upset that he has to do what I tell him to do." Beca has an idea. "Want to see something?"

They go to the roof. 

It's not the tallest building in Los Angeles by any means, but it has a view, regardless. The peacefulness and heat blanket them as they stand silently, watching the tiny cars flit by below. Beca glances at Chloe out of the corner of her eye. She knows that Chloe has to leave for the airport soon, but she just wants to remember this moment - the moment where she's standing beside the only person who really matters in this suddenly hectic and crazy rollercoaster of fame and music.

She frequently finds herself on the roof, just to take in the sheer quiet and isolation. It's nice because she can think outside of the restrictive atmosphere inside the building. She knows Monday will be hell, but she figures it's worth it if it's just to have moments like this.

"It really is quite beautiful, isn't it?" Chloe asks, taking in the stretch of buildings, palm trees, and clear skies.

"Yes," Beca agrees softly. She never looks down once.

 

* * *

 

Beca is quiet - too quiet - and it makes Chloe nervous. She sits beside Beca, rolling her luggage back and forth nervously while she and Beca wait at the airport, just outside of the gates. It's a quiet Sunday, no lines and few flights.

"When will..." Beca trails off, coughs, then shakes her head. It makes the bun of hair on top of her head wobble slightly, which is quite possibly one of Chloe's favourite sights. "I'm going to miss you," she says instead. 

"I'm going to miss you too," Chloe replies, just as honest, just as raw. She chews her lip nervously, wondering if she should ask - if Beca's going to ask. If Beca's going to say anything at all. If Beca's going to kiss her again. If Beca's going to do  _anything_ to make Chloe feel like she has some hope to cling on to.

The P.A. system chimes with an announcement that the flight heading to Davis will be boarding soon and will leave within the next hour or so. Beca hears it and glances at Chloe out of the corner of her eye while Chloe's playlist continues to play on quietly in one ear. She squeezes Chloe's hand, partly in affection and partly in warning about the impending time.

"Chlo," Beca murmurs, using her other hand to tug at the earbud's cord. "I think they called your flight."

"I know."

Beca sighs, not wanting to look at the time either. "You don't have to go," she says, a little desperately. She clenches her empty hand, trying to draw confidence. 

"I do," Chloe says sadly. "I have a huge lab midterm coming up in the next couple of weeks, so I have to work on my practical stuff."

"Oh," is all Beca says. Silence echoes between them. The sound of commuters around them begins to fade into the background.

"I'll call you when I get home," Chloe says, faltering on the word 'home'. "When I get back to Davis," she corrects unnecessarily. She leans forward, changing direction at the last minute so her lips land somewhere at the corner of Beca's mouth. Her nerves have been grating on her all day. She longs to kiss Beca again, but in the bright light of sobriety and the crushing weight of reality, she feels hesitant and shy, unsure where she and Beca stand with each other.

They should have talked at Beca's apartment.

"Beca," she starts to say, just as Beca opens her mouth to start speaking. She snaps her mouth shut, eyes wide as Beca clams up too and looks down at their still intertwined hands. When Beca doesn't continue or say anything further, she powers through because she's running out of time. She's always running out of time, never on time for anything when it comes to Beca Mitchell. "Beca, I like you. I think...I've always liked you in some way. And I know-" she takes a shuddering breath. "-I know that right now, you know that I like you as...as more than..." she trails off, contemplating their relationship from start to end. At every point in their relationship, she's only ever seen Beca by her side.

It has always been Beca and she's realizing it - recalling every moment - in startling clarity.

"I like you more than I've ever," she takes a breath. "Than I've _ever_  liked anybody else," she continues, gazing at Beca's forehead. "And...and I think you like me too," she mumbles, feeling like she's a teenager. "But," she goes on. "If, if you think that you c-can't, then that's OK too because you're my...best friend and you're always going to be a part of my life." Beca lifts her eyes to meet Chloe's. Chloe bites her lip and moves to pull away. "That's all I wanted to say," she says quietly.

"Wait." Beca is pulling her hand back. She brings it up to hold between both of her hands and presses a kiss to Chloe's knuckles. “I...don’t want you to date anybody else, Chlo,” Beca says quietly. The nickname makes both of them smile through the heaviness. “I know it’s selfish, but I think I’m okay with being selfish.”

Beca's heart races at the expression on Chloe's face. Her heart races in general when she sees Chloe, but she knows what she just said; she knows what she's asking for. She thinks of how horrible their timing is - how horrible it is that Chloe is leaving and their relationship is more fragile than ever. It's not a fix, not at all. It's courage and bravery and finally choosing happiness even if it's going to be difficult.

Chloe thinks that she's probably beyond late for her flight, but it doesn't matter. Not when Beca is standing there, staring at her with the most open expression Chloe has ever seen. It makes her choke on the tiniest of sobs because she refuses to cry. Not now.

"I want to be selfish too," she manages to say, ignoring the way Beca's face is becoming blurrier through the building moisture. "Maybe we-" she can't finish because she feels overwhelmed. She feels like she's struggling. She moves to hastily swipe at the tears slipping down her cheeks because every passing second is another second leading to another painful goodbye that she doesn't need; that she doesn't want.

Before she can, one of Beca's hands catches her own while the other reaches up to thumb away errant tears and strands of hair. It's gentle and delicate and makes Chloe absolutely die on the inside and on the outside because she's _still_ crying. She cries at everything.

"Maybe we what?" Beca asks faintly. She looks like she's about to cry too, but she seems to be smiling ever so slightly. 

"Maybe we can...we can be selfish together," Chloe finishes weakly. It terrifies her because she's never given voice to those thoughts; never even contemplated that she'd ever be in a position to ask Beca something like that ever. But here she is, about to leave Beca for an undetermined amount of time, and she's asking Beca for a commitment.

Beca doesn't answer.

Beca doesn't answer and it makes Chloe look up because she thinks it's going to end like every bad dream she's ever had, rolled into one painful nightmare.

Beca doesn't answer and she doesn't need to because she's cupping the back of Chloe's neck and pulling her down for a kiss. She lets her fingers slide through Chloe's hair a little bit, tugging ever slightly with just the right amount of force to make Chloe's eyes cross behind her eyelids. Chloe meets her halfway, raising a hand to cup Beca's cheek, letting her fingers greedily take in the softness of Beca's skin and while her lips greedily contribute to tenderness of their kiss.

It's not their first kiss. Not even close.

But it's not a kiss between two people who are familiar with the sensation - not yet. It's a kiss full of promise and more to come because they're going to try.

It's a kiss intended to be a memory and a reminder as Chloe's plane carries her four hundred fucking miles away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I might be able to get another chapter out this week, but we shall see how school and work treat me over the next few days.


	7. ...guess she went wandering off with it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo holy shit. Here’s a chapter update. It has been approximately five months. This is probably the tenth iteration of this chapter that has passed through my computer.
> 
> As we near the end of this fic, I hope to continue with this particular universe. I’m interested in the dynamics of Beca and Chloe’s relationship, as turbulent as it may be at times. Their lack of communication might be a serious area to address and we’ll see how that plays out.
> 
> Also, let me know what you really want to see in this fic or more specifically, this universe. What kinda of mishaps, angst, etc.!
> 
> Hopefully the next update will come sooner than five months hehehe
> 
> Keep up with me on [Tumblr!](http://isthemusictoblame.tumblr.com)

Beca visits Chloe in Davis.

Beca visits Chloe in Davis a lot, actually. Every visit is short, brief, and fueled by their mutual discovery of the joys of more pleasurable bedroom activities.

(It’s...it’s not quite what Chloe intends for the first time Beca visits Davis, but the moment she envelops Beca in her arms at the airport, the air shifts and they both _know_. A stilted greeting to Chloe’s roommates, the thump of Beca’s bag against the floor coupled with the lock clicking, the sheer reminder of what Beca’s lips had felt like against her own before Chloe realizes that she doesn’t have to imagine because Beca’s actually there and she can just -

...Even lying side by side, dazed and breathless, looking up at the ceiling, Chloe thinks that she doesn’t want to be anywhere else. It’s not quite the fun tour of her campus she had planned. It’s not quite just _being_ with Beca and falling for her even more deeply, but it’s the simmering passion and attraction finally bubbling to the surface, which Chloe figures was always going to happen regardless.)

It’s nice. More than nice, of course.

Chloe doesn’t quite want to put words to it, but it feels like their time is always cut short by Beca’s job, Chloe’s education, and the fact that they do have about 400 miles between them. She never says anything, just sighs quietly and watches as Beca haphazardly pulls on her jeans, her shirt, and her jacket, and puts away her toiletries. It’s methodical and precise and Chloe has been conditioned to feel a pang of sadness whenever she looks at her own toothbrush, lying on its side.

She wants to brush her hand up Beca’s back and ask her to stay and it occurs to her, maybe she _can_ , but she knows Beca has to go back to work and she has to go back to school once their stolen weekends are over and done with.

Conversely, she wants to cup a hand over Beca’s cheek and just ask her to breathe for a few moments because Beca is tiring herself out without even wanting to talk about it. It’s the most peculiar throwback to Beca’s senior year, filled with uncertainty. It makes Chloe chew her lip nervously when she finally lies alone in her bed at night because she’s sure that Beca’s career is escalating up and beyond out of either of their personal experiences with fame. The uncharted territory is terrifying in how foreign it is as well as how much it continues to alienate Chloe (and Beca) from the newness of their relationship.

(And Chloe would be remiss if she didn’t admit that the relationship aspect is verging on something purely physical, which strikes fear in her heart every time she dares to think about it, or even begins to contemplate what it would mean if she brought it up to Beca.)

Now, Beca lies on her side, enjoying the way her body tenses and coils pleasurably when Chloe’s breath brushes against the back of her neck with each exhale. She bites her lip, tugging Chloe’s arm tighter around her middle, causing Chloe to mumble incoherently and cuddle further into her back. It’s warm and soft and just the most perfect cocoon of safety that it makes Beca’s entire body thrum in approval.

“Chloe,” she whispers, not wanting to entirely disturb the peace.

There’s a brief silence, but Chloe’s breath increases in its pace, only marginally, as if Chloe is on the verge of dozing off and barely staying conscious.

Beca is distinctly adept at separating her personal life from her professional life. It’s something she’s honed over the years, a reminder from her parents’ own failed marriage to never bring work “home” so to speak. All she recalls is shouting and infidelity and insecurity rising to the surface until it boiled over painfully. She recalls all too well how that personal story ended for her parents.

This specific contemplation brings her into a slow rumination about her relationships with the people in her life and the people who are no longer in her life.

Sharing her professional life with Jesse had been fine until he left (first, just physically, then finally emotionally). Sharing her professional life with the Bellas had been a no-go until it was essentially forced out of her by her friends. Now, on the cusp of something more with Chloe Beale, Beca thinks that she finds herself at a crossroads again.

That thought sticks and floats through her mind on this specific slightly chilly morning in Davis as she dreads completing yet another round of media and further preparation for her upcoming promotional circuit. Her album is shaping up to be…well, something. It’s an eclectic mix of guaranteed top 40 hits, songs that will definitely be remixed _again_ to become bangers, and of course, the two ballads that Theo and her had fought for. She’s nowhere near done with the creative aspect on quite a number of her tracks, but she’s grateful enough for the opportunity to have such a hands-on experience for her first album - at least, she lets herself linger in that state of mind of being able to creatively contribute to her artistic endeavours.

In any case, she thinks of her days with the Bellas more and more frequently, trying to reconcile her past with the present, which isn’t particularly hard to do since she credits her experiences at Barden as some of the largest inspirations for her creativity these days. She says as much during an interview with Elle who previews her first single and her upcoming collaboration with Pentatonix, teasing at her acapella background and well-rounded sound.

“Chlo,” she tries once more, once her thoughts take a turn towards the unpleasant realization that she has to leave.

Chloe shifts behind her, skin sliding against skin tantalizingly. “Yeah,” she rasps, coming slowly out of her dozing state.

“I…I have to get ready soon. My flight’s in a couple of hours.”

Chloe doesn’t say anything for a few moments and Beca thinks she’s fallen back asleep. Beca considers doing so as well because Chloe’s embrace is all warmth and soft skin and she wants to _stay_ but –

“Okay,” Chloe agrees quietly. Her arm slides away, but not before her hand lingers for contact on Beca’s skin, feeling like the last vestiges of sunlight slipping away. “Big week coming up?” Chloe asks, trying to move towards casual conversation, something that feels more and more difficult to draw out.

Beca nods, thinking about how much she wants to tell Chloe - how much she wants to burden her with this week. “Meetings,” she says, thinking of what to say. “Collaborations and such.” Chloe heaves a sigh behind her. “Sorry,” she mutters, moving forward and shifting off the bed. “There’s just a lot on my mind.”

It’s a weak excuse and they both know it. Chloe slides up behind her as she’s bending over to pull on her discarded underwear and jeans. Hands glide up her back and shoulders. “You can talk to me,” Chloe says quietly. It’s all she wants.

"I know."

 

* * *

 

**_JustJared_ **

To post on October 29, 2018, 10 AM PST:

**HEADLINE** : WATCH: Beca Mitchell vs. Pentatonix in Acapella Trivia Special on James Corden’s _Late, Late Night_

**LEDE** : Star on the rise. Beca Mitchell is Los Angeles’ newest acquisition. Signed to Epic Records, she marks a new era within the Sony Record family.

**BODY** : Beca Mitchell is going to be the biggest name in music this holiday season. Her latest collaboration with Pentatonix comes fast on the heels of her last viral video with Calvin Harris, an eclectic and addictive blend of pop music. Who’s next on her list?

Mitchell’s first single is slated to drop just before Thanksgiving.

_Video to be embedded here_

 

* * *

 

There’s something about visiting Chloe in Davis that feels like an escape. It’s perhaps a little selfish, but Beca doesn’t necessarily think either of them mind. Chloe hasn’t really suggested visiting Los Angeles again, though Beca isn’t sure that she wants that herself, especially with how hectic things have gotten.

Beca’s new manager in particular is a joy to have around. Though the title of _manager_ is just one of the hats she wears. She helps schedule Beca's press circuits, helps manage Beca's publicist.

“This cannot continue on like you’ve been doing, Beca!” Bridget whispers harshly. She brings Beca aside, stepping out of sync with Theo and Gregory. “You can’t just skip meetings to hang out with your girlfriend.”

Bridget is a special acquisition from Theo. When he first suggested the idea of a publicist and second manager to Beca, he looked like he believed he was presenting her with God’s gift to the world. After the way he had chewed her out for her birthday party, Beca figured he had some expertise to offer if she really wanted to succeed.

And she did, having years of experience in the industry with some of the biggest divas that Beca has ever heard of.

What had been going through her mind at the time was that she wanted this to _work._ It finally felt like her life was coming together, so long as she figured out how to separate aspects that didn’t necessarily mesh. She had hesitantly agreed, seeing that this acquisition - Bridget - agreed with that. Though now, one month later, Beca sees that there should be _limits_ as to how much a person believes in a strong work ethic and how hard they are willing to enforce it.

And now -

Bridget is glaring at her. Stern hazel eyes follow her movements.

Beca tries to look apologetic, but she can still kind of feel the way Chloe’s lips had felt across her jaw and neck and she figures it only makes her look smug and insufferable instead because Bridget scoffs at her.

“Look, Beca – I’m all for you having as much fun as you can while you’re still relatively unknown, but you’ve already been making waves with huge celebrity names and you’ve attached yourself to some great brand campaigns. You should care more about your career because there won’t always be people around to care about it for you.”

Beca bristles at that, though it does make her take pause. She’s not exactly sure what Bridget is asking of her. More studio time? Her album has been out of her hands for the past couple of weeks while production worked on it. It annoys her that she doesn’t have as much input as she’d like, but she’s somehow grown to trust Theo and how he pulls his own strings as her executive.

“I’m sorry,” she says, as sincerely as she can. “I…got carried away, I guess.” She wants so badly to call Chloe and ask her what she thinks, but she recalls that Chloe has a gruesome set of midterms coming up and doesn’t really want to bother her even though her fingers itch every moment she’s not talking to Chloe or calling Chloe.

Beca sighs once Bridget leaves and spins in her chair. It feels so much like it did a few months ago, though she feels like she’s somewhat fixed the distance with Chloe. Chloe herself has retreated into a self-imposed shell of studying, with the exception of weekends - sometimes only one day - where she lets Beca seek out refuge in her embrace.

"You're on the brink of something great here, Beca," Bridget says with uncharacteristic kindness. "I want to help you see it through."

"It's just happening so fast," Beca confesses, unsure why she feels like doing so to Bridget at this moment.

"You need the momentum."

Momentum.

Beca thinks that all she's ever known is momentum. Her life has been a series of events leading up to her finally achieving her dream of making it to Los Angeles. She hasn't even had time to consider the caveats and the repercussions. All she knows is that she refuses to back down, not when she's on the brink of succeeding and excelling and proving everybody wrong.

 

* * *

 

**_People Magazine_ **

_Editor’s note: To publish at future date_

Beca Mitchell is rubbing elbows with all the right people! After having a pleasant brunch with studio execs, Mitchell was seen out with another big name in music production, Zedd. Zedd, who is with Interscope Records (Universal) is likely a conflict of interest for Mitchell who is signed to Epic (Sony), but both still seemed to enjoy the other’s company during their outing.

 

* * *

 

Chloe finally visits Los Angeles again near the beginning of November. Beca is working, but she suggests Chloe tag along and get a "lay of the land." Chloe had been hesitant at first, but Beca also had been in the midst of unbuttoning her shirt, so she supposes she can't really be blamed for her actions.

That was then.

Now, Chloe picks at the food laid out across the table. It’s a smaller press day, according to Beca, so a few interviews with Complex, Genius, and finally Entertainment Tonight. They’re still in a hotel in downtown Los Angeles because it’s the location of Beca’s music video – the concept of which is still a secret to Chloe – and Beca had been forced into wearing slightly taller boots.

Chloe sneaks a few grapes into her mouth, as inconspicuously as she can because she’s unsure if she’s allowed. She figures nobody’s going to notice anyway, since Beca is the focus of her team at the moment.

Theo is reading her a few practice questions. “When did you realize you wanted to be in the entertainment industry?”

“When my friends were kidnapped and held hostage.”

“Beca! You can’t say that on video.”

Chloe snorts at that answer, catching the tail of end of it as she wanders back over to the vanity. A stylist is presenting Beca with an array of leather jackets, which Chloe admits will look _fantastic_. She sees Beca’s eyes light up, literally, because the light on the vanity catches Beca’s face just right as she nears. Beca grins at her when she notices her approaching. “What do you think?” she asks Chloe, ignoring Theo.

Beca’s disdain for sitting still in a chair and getting her makeup and hair done by people other than herself (and Chloe) still manages to shine through. Chloe leans against the vanity and watches as Beca essentially pouts through the whole process. “I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Which one will look better on your floor later?”

The pleasant woman styling Beca’s hair pretends not to hear that while Beca splutters and coughs. Chloe is delighted. Theo rolls his eyes before turning to face Chloe.

“Hi Chloe,” he greets warmly. He nudges Beca. “Are you ready?” 

Chloe has been apprehensive about this trip to Los Angeles. The last time she had been down, she had, admittedly, _finally_ kissed Beca Mitchell, but not before she had gotten a glimpse into Beca’s life.

Beca had been quiet when Chloe asked about visiting Los Angeles. She had been ready to drop the topic altogether, but Beca suggested she attend her press day with her, just to get a “feel for it”. Chloe had agreed, but only because she wanted to spend more time with Beca, since their calls had gotten increasingly distant over the past couple of weeks.

(She won’t lie, she also selfishly misses the way Beca just _feels_ against her, but the thought of that makes her blush bloom and she stiltedly reminds herself that she’s in public.)

Her nervousness also stems from the fact that she and Beca hadn’t really _talked_ about who they were to each other, at least not at length. Chloe tries to think about school for the majority of her time, but she’s also concerned that the distance is taking a toll on the fragility of their relationship.

Now, here in Los Angeles, Chloe tries not to make extended eye contact with curious eyes who wonder who she is. She can hear the questions, though it’s self-conscious. At some point, Beca had mentioned her enough to garner a positive reception to her presence, but that had been two months ago, which jolts Chloe into the revelation that time moves strangely in Los Angeles – at least, it does where it concerns Beca. Now, instead of recognition, Chloe gets the undercurrent of uncertainty as people try to either place her as part of the label, part of Beca’s creative team, or a make-up artist or stylist. The curiosity is barely shrouded, its transparency clear as day since Theo takes it upon himself to usher her past people.

Beca doesn’t necessarily have an entourage – at least, not one that she’s seen out with enough for it to be normal for her to bring friends around. Beca’s lack of reaction to people fluttering around her and attending to her strikes Chloe as a departure from when she last saw her. She notes that this is Beca’s professional façade. Something about it warms Chloe, yet also unsettles her.

In any case, Chloe’s not the one being interviewed – Chloe’s not the one with viral and popular videos on the internet. She’s just…Beca’s friend, it seems.

Then again, moments like these happen: Beca cups her cheek with tenderness and intimacy that makes Chloe’s entire body flush with pleasure. "Just hang out here. This won't take long," Beca says. 

Chloe nods.

One of the production assistants turns on the monitor so Chloe can watch from a distance. She lingers by the monitor for a moment, offering Theo a hesitant smile when he comes to stand next to her in order to watch as well.

"So, Beca, moving from opening for DJ Khaled to releasing your own album next year. You’ve had a crazy year, haven’t you? Congratulations."

Beca smiles. "Thank you," she says graciously. 

"I mean, we’ve got a few snippets here and there, but tell us a bit about how you got into the industry. Did you always know you wanted to work in Los Angeles?"

"I don’t know that I always wanted to be a recording artist,” Beca replies with an air of confidence and collectedness that Chloe’s not sure she’s ever seen. It’s…attractive. “I spent some time after I graduated working as a recording assistant, then further up as a producer. I was also based in New York, so you could say that it’s been a change of scenery.”

“New York or Los Angeles? You’ve gotta choose.”

Beca grins. “I don’t know that I have to.”

Chloe just watches, entranced. It’s a sight to behold, watching Beca work the interview as if she’s been preparing for this her whole life.

“She’s a natural, isn’t she?” Theo whispers, startling her.

“Yeah,” Chloe agrees, once she’s caught her breath. “Video interviews, huh? The last I saw, she just did that segment with James Corden.”

“Yep. We’re excited for the Complex and Genius ones because they’re exactly her target audience.” Chloe shrugs, nodding vaguely because Beca hasn’t exactly opened up about that either, despite Chloe’s questions.

"What happened in Europe? Everybody’s dying to know. There were some rumors that you were-"

"We’re here to talk about her album and her career," Bridget chimes in before the interviewer can proceed further with that line of questioning.

Chloe rolls her eyes, but brightens when Beca only stifles a smile. It’s a relief, if anything, as Chloe feels herself uncoil. She figures Beca wouldn’t want to relive that particular moment anyway. But the way her publicist chimed in immediately lets Chloe know that Beca deals with this, likely with increasing frequency.

"Okay,” the interviewer concedes, running a hand through his hair. He flips through his notes, adjusting the recorder on the table. “You’ve been seen out and about with some notable people recently..."

Chloe fidgets with her phone. She feels Theo shift next to her.

"Now, Calvin Harris? Zedd? Lots of big names you’ve managed to snag on some lunch outings.” His smile is sly. “Can we call them dates?"

Beca manages an equally smarmy grin of her own, though Chloe recognizes the irritation. "I might or might not be working on some collaborations,” Beca replies, avoiding the last question.

The interviewer looks like a shark that’s smelled blood. “Anything to say about who you might or might not be an item with?"

The surprise on Chloe’s face must speak volumes because Theo nudges her and offers a semi-reassuring smile. He doesn’t say anything. 

"I’ve worked with a lot of great people, but only as professionals. You know that they work within my label’s family.”

"This industry’s pretty lonely, though. Are you dating anyone at the moment? Your fans want to know."

Chloe’s not sure she likes the way the question is phrased, let alone how little it relates to Beca’s music. Bridget doesn’t say anything.

"Seriously?” Beca laughs, but there’s a sharp edge to it that Chloe’s pretty sure only she recognizes because nobody else so much as flinches. “I like to keep my private life private."

Chloe watches with interest, noting the way the interviewer moves from question to question with ease. They’re fairly innocent after that. What’s your favourite go-to playlist on Spotify. Does she have any preference on equipment when mixing? Does she remember the very first microphone she bought for herself? Keyboard?

“I’m hoping to take a long vacation after this album is over,” Beca offers. “Maybe to Seattle. Or Portland.” Chloe blushes at that, wondering if Beca is remembering the fact she had mentioned that she wanted to visit her parents in Portland over the summer break. The brief allusion and attention makes Chloe’s chest tighten momentarily.

"Well that should be fun," offered the interviewer, taking notes. “Are you going to revisit acapella any time soon? Was the change hard?"

"I’ve been mixing for as long as I can remember,” Beca says lightly. “Acapella and mixing just happened to go hand in hand really well,” she says, looking up at that and catching Chloe’s eyes. The smile she flashes her is genuine.

"Now, regarding your birthday…there were a few photos taken of you with an old friend, it seems."

Chloe stops breathing for a moment, eyes locked on Beca.

There’s an awkward pause because Beca doesn’t seem to know what to do when there isn’t a direct question presented to her. She settles on “Friends take photos with me. It was my birthday, dude."

It’s bait. "Can you comment on the woman with you in this photo?”

Chloe doesn’t have to see the photo to know it’s one from Beca’s birthday.

Beca studies it, though Chloe catches her blank expression even from her distance. She’s not really looking at the photo. "Oh yeah, she's a friend of mine from my university days. My old acapella team from Barden came out to L.A. for that."

“She’s pretty.”

Beca’s smile is nearly a grimace. Chloe winces through her own blush.

“She is,” Beca replies. Her tone indicates that she’s done with that conversation.

He looks like he wants to say more.

"Okay, we can stop," Bridget interrupts firmly. "This wasn't on the list of pre-approved questions and as I previously told you, Beca’s here to talk about her album and her artistry. We can end it now if you’re done,” she says, framing it like a suggestion though it’s clear that it isn’t.

“We’ll be at the release party, but please let us know if you can swing by for a quick chat beforehand.”

Beca calmly shakes his hand. “Thanks, see you.”

Beca lingers to make small talk with a production assistant and Theo wanders over to join that conversation. Chloe fiddles with her phone, smiling at people who pass by, though nobody spares her a second glance as they brush past, trying to set up for the music video shoot.

“Hey you,” a voice sounds from behind her.

It’s Bridget, Chloe recognizes. She hasn’t had the joy of having a conversation with Bridget, though she enjoys listening to Beca rant about her over dinner.

"Hi," Chloe greets. "Bridget, right?"

"Right," Bridget says. She adjusts her bag, eyeing Chloe. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine," Chloe admits. "What about you? She's a handful, isn't she?" she teases.

"Yes, no thanks to you, I'm sure," Bridget teases back, though it does make Chloe take pause. "I'm sorry," she apologizes. "I didn't mean anything by that. Just that Beca missed out on a meeting I suggested for her a couple weekends ago. I told her to stop bothering you so much since I'm sure you're really busy with school."

Chloe takes pause then, drawing together every experience she’s had since her first Los Angeles trip to now.

How does she fit in? She’s not exactly sure, herself.

She wants to be confident and see to it that she _does_ belong, but as another stranger brushes past her and Beca seems to move further and further away, Chloe feels her resolve shudder. She wants to know more about where she and Beca stand, but they haven't talked about it at length since September.

Over dinner that night, Beca takes note of her quieter state. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Just a little tired."

Beca blinks at that, surprised. "Oh, why didn't you say something? We could have just gotten something off Uber Eats or something."

"No, it's fine." Chloe reaches a hand across the table, placing her hand on Beca's. "This is nice. I needed this."

Beca's hand turns over so their palms are resting together. Her smile is genuine. Chloe bites her lip, thinking about whether she can bring it up. "So...I was thinking a little about us."

Beca tilts her head and opens her mouth to say something. At that moment, a young man in a sports jacket and casual jeans greets Beca and approaches their table. Beca slides her hand away and introduces him as a PA she ran into while filming a talk-show segment.

Chloe smiles and barely remembers his name. She leaves Los Angeles with a crowded mind, bringing a piece of the city’s stranglehold with her.

 

* * *

 

**_Twitter_ **

@SonyMusicGlobal: We’re just here to confirm that @BecaMitchell’s single is going to be on a playlist near you very soon. Like. Tomorrow. Preview it here: [link]

  * @BecaMitchell: @SonyMusicGlobal sounds like it’s serious. should we follow each other??? #soon



  
@ready_to_sing: i totally saw @BecaMitchell at the Sacramento airport just now

  * @birdy_flyaway: @ready_to_sing omg! Was she arriving or leaving? I’m a huge fan
  * @ready_to_sing: @birdy_flyaway she was definitely arriving, like i think she was visiting a friend because somebody picked her up and they were pretty friendly!



 

* * *

 

It’s a weekend in Davis as usual, nearing the end of November. Chloe dons a scarf and beanie to complement her sweater when she goes to meet Beca at the Sacramento airport. She listens to Beca’s single in the car, beaming as the radio DJ praises Beca’s efforts and details her rise to success.

“Hello,” she says, unable to fight the smile that arises whenever she just _looks_ at Beca. She takes Beca’s bag first before leaning in to press a slow, tender kiss against Beca’s lips. Beca smiles into the kiss in return, reaching out to delicately curl a hand around Chloe’s wrist to pull her a little bit closer.

It’s in these moments that Chloe doesn’t bother stifling or doubting the importance of her own feelings for Beca. She can pretend for a moment that they’re the couple she’s always dreamed of being. 

She can pretend that they’re not going to immediately forego a nice dinner out and make a beeline straight for Chloe’s bed.

 

* * *

 

**_TMZ_ **

Beca Mitchell: Jetsetter, but where does she go?

We’ve noticed that this up and coming pop starlet has been taking to the skies recently - and by that, we mean _very_ frequently. As in, almost every weekend. Not wanting to respond to any of our questions, Mitchell simply waves us off as she sets off on another journey…

But she always comes back fairly soon.

Does she have a mystery lover?

 

_**Twitter** _

@BecaMitchell: I made it on TMZ! Can I add that to my resume?

  * @fandom_mixup: @BecaMitchell you definitely can! please follow me back?



 

* * *

 

“Fuck,” Beca murmurs, staring up at Chloe’s ceiling, trying to catch her breath.

Shifting up, Chloe pushes her own hair away from her face. “Happy Thanksgiving,” she murmurs, nipping at Beca’s neck. She traces a finger over the small mark she left there, knowing Beca left a similar one along her shoulder.

“I, uh, yeah,” Beca manages to say after clearing her throat.

Chloe giggles from beside her and the sound makes her want to roll back on top of her and resume their previous activities. For years, Beca had wondered curiously about what this would be like - this state of physical bliss with Chloe Beale. Now, she doesn’t have to wonder and each experience feels like a reminder that they have years of catching up to do and never enough time. Beca always feels like she’s out of time with Chloe, resulting in an anxiety that simmers below the surface. 

“I love reducing you to this inarticulate state,” Chloe says lightly, only slightly less breathless than Beca. Beca hates her for it.

“I bet you do,” she mumbles, rolling onto her side so she can meet Chloe for a kiss. She intends for it to be chaste, but it lingers like their kisses always do, turning into something soft and imbued with passion, quickly escalating both their heartbeats without fail. “Hm,” she hums, tangling her fingers into the hair at the back of Chloe’s head. 

Chloe makes a soft noise, nestling her head into Beca’s neck. “Do you really have to leave tomorrow instead of Sunday?” she asks quietly. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes when she sees Beca’s pout. 

Beca groans, wishing that Chloe didn’t penetrate their bubble so early in her visit. “Nice,” she mumbles, ignoring Chloe’s little noise of protest when she turns from her embrace. Just as she rolls over, her phone vibrates insistently with text messages before there’s a brief silence and it starts to ring. She glares at it from where it lies on the table.

“Bec, what meeting are you missing to be here?” Chloe asks teasingly, though there’s a serious undertone to her voice. She traces patterns into Beca’s shoulder, following the edge of the flower’s colourful contrast against soft pale skin.

Beca sighs quietly, twisting around so she’s lying on her side facing Chloe. “I’m not really missing anything.” She tries to muster up some charm. “I miss _you_ ,” she drawls, reaching for Chloe again, enjoying the proximity in Chloe’s bed. It’s smaller than her own, but so much more comfortable.

Chloe raises an eyebrow, ignoring the way her heart races in the duality of what she’s witnessing, which is that Beca is _choosing_ her. She lets Beca lean in to gently press their lips together. It soothes her briefly, lets her drift off into her imagination just for a moment as Beca’s hands glide down her sides, coming to rest on her hips.

“Hi,” Beca whispers, leaning back when she realizes Chloe isn’t being responsive.

Chloe sucks her lower lip between her teeth for a moment, contemplating. Beca tracks the motion with her eyes, but it’s a curious gaze as opposed to a lustful gaze. Chloe sees curiosity and an unspoken question.

She’s not really sure how to say it, or even bring it up, but her inhibitions are slightly lowered and she feels such a gamut of emotions that she needs to decompress. “Do you think maybe you…shouldn’t visit so often?” Chloe hedges quietly, her conversation with Bridget still ringing loudly in her ears. “You kind of have responsibilities to attend to.”

To Beca, she just hears a reiteration of what she’s being forced to do on a daily basis. It echoes with familiarity. “Why is it that people think I can’t make these decisions for myself?” Beca asks quietly, frustration lacing her tone. “You can’t seriously think that there’s even a choice here. I pick –”

“ –  It’s not about whether you pick me,” Chloe interrupts as patiently as she can. “I just think – ” 

“ – You,” Beca finishes. “I pick you every time.”

“I don’t pick me!” Chloe blurts out, blushing when it comes out less articulate than she would like. “I - I don’t want you to pick me, not right now at least. Not when you have your whole future on the line. It’s not fair to either of us.”

Chloe thinks of all those roaring waves of inadequacy and the way in which she never wants to smother Beca’s flame. She wants Beca to burn her brightest, even if it means seeing it from a distance at times. Even if it means landing hard on her back, thrown out of Beca’s orbit once more.

“I’m just not really sure what we’re arguing about here,” Beca whispers. “Is it the distance? I’m trying to make it work. I thought this was what you wanted. We talked about it.”

Chloe stands from her bed, moving towards her desk chair so she can have something to hold beyond Beca’s hands. 

“Do you understand how much you mean to me?” Chloe says, feeling the most peculiar sensation of nausea rising. “Do you understand how long I’ve been in love with you?”

The silence is deafening.

“You’re…in love with me,” Beca repeats. It’s not a question, but rather a repetition of a fact - a fact that Chloe has held close to her heart for years. It was her cross to bear and hers alone.

The nausea returns full-force when she acknowledges that Beca hasn’t said it back, that Beca hasn’t fulfilled her dream fairy-tale ending. The nausea returns full-force when she acknowledges that Beca seems surprised by this fact, as if it hasn’t plagued Chloe’s entire existence for years.

Beca’s heart races.

Chloe being in love with her is…new. She had assumed they were trying this out because they had some unresolved and unspoken attraction to each other, born out of their prolonged co-existence. At least, it feels like that’s all she’s capable of admitting to herself at the moment. Despite it all, she feels the buried feelings that she’s struggled to contain over the years - the ones she didn’t feel completely entitled to because she was otherwise occupied with school, Jesse, work, and finally now...this. There’s a divide in her capability to commit even though every cell in her body asks her why she’s separating these two halves of her life when they only inform and lift up the other.

She stares at her hands because she doesn’t want to see the devastation on Chloe’s face.

She doesn’t want to see the disappointment and anger and regret.

At the same time, her throat sticks and closes because she doesn’t know how to feel about anything anymore. At the same time, Chloe being in love with her feels as natural as breathing.

...Like those feelings have always been there. Her hands shake at the thought.

“I chose Davis for you,” Chloe whispers, breaking the silence once more. It’s kind of selfish and Chloe flushes at how abruptly it comes out. She says it anyway because she needs Beca to react. She needs Beca to either reach out or lash out.

Beca feels a tremble ripple through her. 

All her feelings for Chloe feel new and exciting, but she hasn’t had time - the same amount of time at least - to really sit down and address them. To really sit down and compartmentalize them. To assess where they belong. To assess where she belongs. 

She hasn’t had time to herself to recognize whether she’s in love with Chloe too. 

“I didn’t ask you to choose Davis,” Beca says, frustrated once more. She tries to recall what happened, trying to move through everything about their relationship logically. “I…I asked you to choose Cornell. Or somewhere else. I don’t know. Fuck,” she curses quietly, rubbing at her neck. “You’ve just…you’ve been my best friend for so long.” 

Chloe swallows at that. She will always be Beca’s best friend for as long as Beca needs her to and even beyond that. She will _always_ want to be in Beca’s life. “So maybe we didn’t talk about it,” she hedges. 

Beca takes a deep breath. “We did,” she insists. “We’re on the same page,” she says in a tone that implies confidence, even if her internal processing is telling her otherwise.

“Beca,” Chloe urges. “You asked me - that Sunday all those weeks ago. You asked me not to see anybody else. To be selfish. We agreed to be selfish together. I’m not even asking for that right now. I’m asking for you to be selfish because I know how much your career means to you. I love you,” she repeats, trying not to let it get to her when Beca doesn’t make eye contact. “I don’t…I don’t know what all this means for us, but I love you so much and I don’t want you to throw your dream out the window or even put it on hold because it kills me.” 

A part of Chloe wants to know if Beca is going to deny it - that nothing has changed, really. That maybe Bridget had been wrong.

At Beca’s silence, all Chloe sees is a splash of grey and monochrome across the temporary vibrance she had been privy to; all Chloe sees is the way Beca’s shoulders slump. It’s the Beca behind closed doors - the one that Chloe gets to see regularly and the one she saw blossom through university. The one that is finally willing to admit defeat, weakness, and vulnerability. It shines through, clear as day. 

“What do you want me to do?” Beca asks. She needs Chloe to tell her because she doesn’t know how to deal with this and deal with her album and music. What she assumed would be easy to separate, at least until she got a hold on it, now crumbles before her eyes.

Chloe sucks in a breath, wishing that they could turn back time a little bit. To take it easy. To suppress the passion and lust and everything that came with being together, with the exception of actually _being together_.

It’s something that weighs heavily on her mind, something that has weighed heavily on her mind for a while now, if she’s being honest. Chloe wants all of Beca and not just the limited availability that comes in bursts.

“Let’s just…let’s just go back to being friends, okay? For the time being. Because you’re trying to sort your life out and I feel like I’m only just beginning mine with school.”

The words feel traitorous, but Chloe can’t even reign them in if she tried. They bubble past her lips and she just tries to remember to breathe.

“I...what does that mean?” Beca asks quietly.

“It means that you’re as single as you inferred in that interview and this was just a fling. Until we’re both okay with all of these changes.”

Beca grows irritated. “Is that what this is about? You know that interview meant nothing, right?”

“Beca,” Chloe starts. It’s not just the interview. It’s everything - all the places where Chloe can’t _fit_. Where Chloe just doesn’t fit.

Chloe likes it when things operate smoothly. She remembers crying in frustration over their Bellas mishaps, even as they occurred with less frequency over the remaining years at Barden. She remembers crying to Aubrey at first, and finally crying against Beca’s shoulder when she could.

“I don’t understand how you can’t see that I’m doing this because it’s the only thing that makes sense to me right now.”

Chloe grows quiet, struggling to rationalize this in the same way Beca appears to be doing so. It’s hard to reconcile this with what she’s heard and seen in the media, simply because Beca doesn’t tell her things, though Chloe is sure it’s not malice, but rather a form of self-preservation. She’s very adept at recognizing the same signs that manifest in her own actions.

Beca waits, watching Chloe process. She stands tentatively and nervously runs her hand through her hair. Standing in front of Chloe now, she reaches out to brush her fingers over Chloe’s knuckles, marvelling in how rigid and stiff they are. She wants nothing more than to ease that tension because she needs Chloe's positivity and optimism more than ever.

“Hey,” she tries.

“Beca,” Chloe warns.

“Please,” she says, though it comes out in a quiet whimper. She hates herself for it, but the thought of being distant emotionally alongside being distant physically makes Beca’s entire body recoil in horror.

Chloe twists, her hand coming up to catch Beca’s forearm. Beca sighs the moment their bodies meet each other again, using her free hand to cup the back of Chloe’s neck to tug her in for a bruising kiss. Chloe is willing and her lips are pliant.

“I’m not...I’m not good at this stuff,” Beca continues. “This balancing act. I just...want to keep these two parts of my life separate.”

“What parts are those?” Chloe asks softly.

_You_ , Beca wants to say. “I…” Beca stumbles. “I don’t know how to…” This line of questioning from Chloe is new, but it’s not new to Beca because how much she wars with her own thoughts. They flow in and out of her mind whenever she’s given a moment of reprieve, though she had enjoyed the safety of Davis, with its distance and distinct lack of fame.

“I think we both need time,” Chloe murmurs, though her lips linger over Beca’s. It’s tantalizing and Beca can’t help the shiver that runs through her body. The ripple only intensifies when Chloe sighs again before murmuring “I love you” and finally stepping away.

Something sticks in Beca’s throat.

She doesn't dislodge it in time.

 

* * *

 

_**ELLE US** , December Issue _

**HEADLINE:** Beca Mitchell: Behind the Music and Mayhem

Sitting down with Beca Mitchell, one wouldn’t necessarily expect such a force of nature to be so diminutive in stature. She is absolutely the one to keep an eye on over the next few months. With a single out and a full-length album in the works, it seems like Mitchell has fast-tracked her rise to fame, but it should be stated that it’s due to her incredible work ethic and long hours spent in the studio (when she’s not constantly at LAX, of course).

_[EXCERPT]_

_ELLE:_ And who are you wearing today?

(It’s lighthearted, since we’re at a casual outing at a very public cafe. Mitchell is wearing black jeans, and a red sweater, in case you were curious.)

_BM:_ I...yeah, wow I’m still not sure I’m used to getting that question.

_ELLE:_ Weren’t you just at the People’s Choice Awards this past month?

_BM_ : [laughing] Yeah, I guess I was. It’s all a blur, honestly. Um, sorry, you asked who I was wearing? I mean, I… [more serious] I’m actually not too sure. I kind of, hm, how do I put this. I raided my friend’s closet? So it’s hers. Not mine.

_ELLE_ : Oh, I’m sure she won’t mind.

_BM:_ [smiling] I’m sure she won’t.

 

* * *

 

It’s decided.

After Thanksgiving, there’s an unspoken agreement that passes between them to not spend any further major holidays together. That means Christmas and New Year’s.

Chloe flies to Portland for Christmas, then to the East Coast for New Year’s.

It’s not what she had imagined, though perhaps it’s just another long New Year’s Eve in a series of New Year’s Eves where she’s been distinctly disappointed by the outcome of her year.

In a sense, there were moments in the year where she feels like she made great strides – veterinary school being one of them and, well –

Beca is the other.

_God_ , she misses Beca.

She bites her lip and tells Beca as much through a hasty text message (“I miss you so much” is what she types out initially before hitting delete and settling on “I miss you”) and tries not to look at her phone for the rest of the night. It’s what a friend would do. Acknowledgement that a friend’s company is missed is normal friendship behaviour. Chloe doesn’t want to put too much thought into it, lest she cave and send Beca a paragraph of how much she wishes she were in New York with her and their friends.

Instead, the night passes in a haze of alcohol, insane Manhattan crowds, a belligerently drunk Fat Amy, and finally stumbling back to Amy’s new apartment, tangled up in her friends. It’s as warm as she gets to be amidst the physical cold and the one that she feels edging along her ribs. She ends her year by curling up in Aubrey’s arms, sobbing incoherently until she finds it difficult to breathe, but it’s clear that this difficulty is something that she’s only grown accustomed to over the past few months. Being near Beca just made it easier.

(“I miss Beca,” Chloe whimpers, tugging at the lapels of Aubrey’s jacket. “I’m an idiot,” she moans quietly.

Flo whispers to Fat Amy, “I thought she was becoming a doctor.”

Fat Amy whispers back, “An _animal_ doctor.” 

Flo nods in understanding. Neither question the ‘Beca’ aspect of Chloe’s distress.

Aubrey grabs her wrists and shakes her head with firmness that belies the amount of alcohol she has consumed thus far. “You’re not,” she says quietly. “You two, as stubborn as you are, are probably the only people that work for each other. Trust me.”

In the silence and haze of conflicting thoughts, Chloe latches on to that, feeling dazed.

Chloe believes her, but only because she can’t do anything else anymore.)

When the first day of January rolls around, she wakes up to a mouthful of Aubrey’s hair and Amy’s foot on her chest. She has four missed calls from Beca, but she takes them at arm’s length, trying to focus on the story that Aubrey is telling them while Flo braids her hair. It feels like home, even though her heart tries so desperately to tell her that home is across the country.

And despite it all, their reprieve is a reprieve, and she settles back in Davis with a marginally less-heavy heart and less-crowded head. She finally opens Beca’s text messages before listening to her voicemails.

**Beca (10:20 pm)  
** _I think I’m hanging out at the label with Theo and Bridget (gag) for New Year’s. Kill me!!_

**Beca (10:20 pm)  
** _I miss you too_

**Beca (10:25 pm)  
** _Like, a lot. Holy shit._

**Beca (11:40 pm)  
** _Okay, so like I’m sitting in the bathroom because I’m trying to avoid this rly annoying intern. Who said holiday work parties had to be a thing? Is this even a real job? But I want you to know that I miss you and everything about you because sometimes I don’t think I tell you how important it is that you’re just there to help me get through the day like i_

**Beca (11:42 pm)  
** _hmm I lost my train of thought when I accidentally hit send and I really don’t know where this text is going, but as long as it goes to you and you know how much it kills me whenever we’re apart_

Chloe thinks that it would be so easy to tell Beca exactly how much she means to her over text message – just a simple tap of a few keys and she’d do it. But the thought of having something so important sent so trivially makes her recoil momentarily. She re-reads the text messages a few more times after tossing her bag onto her bed, feeling a slow fire crawl through her chest. It settles unpleasantly just adjacent to her heart.

 

* * *

 

**_The Lodge at Fallen Leaves (3 and a half years ago)_ **

Chloe feels anger bubble just underneath her skin as she watches Beca's body tense with undeniable aggravation and frustration after her outburst.

"No," she says immediately, not letting Beca off the hook this time. "You don't think that we haven't all realized that you've been a little checked out lately?" She lets her emotions rise to the surface and it finally feels like the dam has broken.

She can't control her breathing.

"Come on Beca," Fat Amy says quietly - which by her standards is just regular speaking. "Just tell her." 

Chloe's heart races unexpectedly and she glares at her two friends; she feels her fists clench at her sides. "I heard that," she says, trying to stop her voice from shaking. "Tell me what?"

When Beca finally turns to face her head-on, all Chloe sees is a deep vulnerability, irritation, a flash in her eyes, and the downturned corners of her mouth.

Chloe is a little surprised because of Beca's secret, but she's more surprised that Beca didn't tell her. It feels like a further reminder that Beca could very well live without her, that Beca was always destined for life beyond the walls of Barden University; beyond Atlanta, Georgia; beyond Chloe. 

"What is so wrong with being focused on the Bellas?" Chloe demands. She frantically runs through every possibility where she could have gotten it wrong in her mind. "This has been my family for seven years," she says with a tinge of desperation that she can't quite restrain. Beca has been her family for a huge chunk of that time too. 

And now Beca's voice is raised. "Yeah, because you're too scared to leave." Beca's eyes seem to blaze right through her. "Sack up, dude!" Beca's voice is loud, verging on shouting, which is not shocking on its own. What shocks Chloe is that it's directed straight at her and she's never quite seen that expression on Beca's face before. She recoils slightly, willing the hurt to not show on her face. Instead, she gathers her own internalized frustrations and lets it rise to the surface completely.

She can feel the other girls' eyes on them, burning into the side of her face; she can hear Aubrey's stuttered exhales as if she's trying to interject, but stopping herself from doing so.

It doesn't matter though because Beca's staring at her and she's staring back, feeling like she's looking at a complete stranger. It makes her chest tighten uncomfortably.

On the verge of hysteria, Chloe claps her hands together and wills herself not to step into Beca's personal space, but it's so hard because all she wants to do is grab Beca by the shoulders and apologize; she wants to take Beca's hand and just start over. Instead, she lets only one of her anxieties take precedent, lets the focus fall on The Worlds', lets everything she's ever felt for Beca wash over her. 

The air feels heavy. Her skin feels too tight. 

"Oh my God," Beca says, exasperated and dismissive. "Enough about the worlds. I ca-I am out of here." 

Chloe's breath stutters when Beca walks away from her. "Oh, OK," she manages to state between breaths. Her lungs struggle and her throat tightens. "You're just gonna leave now, you're just-" she cuts herself off, not finishing the thought. 

_You're just gonna leave me._

The image of Beca walking away from her with determination and finality is burned into her mind. 

She can't look away. 

(She never could.)

She feels like she's drowning. 

(She always was.)

 

* * *

 

**_The Lodge at Fallen Leaves (3 and a half years ago) ...a few moments later_ **

Walking away is the hardest thing Beca's ever done and she hates herself immediately in the aftermath. All she feels is her own failures and shortcomings overwhelming her and pushing her further and further into her self-deprecation. She can hear the quiet murmurs of her friends - her friends - and Chloe's sharp inhale behind her. They call out - a little desperately - but she powers through because turning around is -

It's Chloe and it always has been Chloe.

(It always will.)

She doesn't want to see sympathy in anybody's eyes, least of all Chloe. She can't bear to be the cause of any disappointment; disappointment over not having anything significant to say, disappointment over her shortcomings as a leader, disappointment over the way she can't help but look at Chloe as something more than just friends, beyond the continuously blurring parameters of their relationship.

It's easier to lash out - or so she thinks.

She sees the devastation on Chloe's face because she's so aware of how it manifests in her own body: her hands shake and her mouth runs dry.

Even as she turns away, she wants to immediately run back - to run into a hug, to run into Chloe's arms.

(She always wants that.)

But she doesn't.

(She's lost count of the times she hasn't.)


	8. love the way that you conquer your fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca learns what it means to come to terms with things, finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly a Beca-centric chapter. :)

_**Los Angeles,** **CA (February)**_

Beca has been dumped three times in her life. She won’t really count the first, because it had been her first high school “boyfriend”, but really, she’d describe their relationship as such: they had held hands about three times and made out once, then the head cheerleader walked by and, well.

(To be fair, Beca completely understood.)

The second time, distance had cracked her and Jesse’s relationship until she found herself single and alone in New York.

The third time...Beca supposes she can’t really call it a fully fledged relationship over the course of their two-month courtship. Relationship. Friends-with-benefits situation.

Beca has called it a million things in her mind.

“You’re in a slump,” Theo tells her sagely, jolting her out of her Chloe-induced reverie.

It makes her grind her teeth even if he means well. “You don’t say,” Beca retorts. She flicks her pen in his general direction, missing by a wide margin. “I don’t want to do this damn ballad anymore.”

“You were so on board with it just a little while back. What the hell happened?”

“I’m just stuck. The ballad has to mean something, okay? At least one of them does. It’s not like you guys gave me much choice on the matter,” she mutters.

“Don’t be difficult,” he snarks. It makes Beca want to punch him. He continues, “you really wanted to try your hand at this. We’re meeting with potential writers tomorrow. Did you bother listening to any of the demos?”

Beca sighs. “Yeah. Yes. I did, promise. There are a couple seriously good ones,” she admits. “I flagged them on that laptop.”

It’s the middle of January currently and she’s slated to release her album mid-April. Her single is doing well. She has racked up quite the number of connections and contacts over the past year in Los Angeles.

She’s in Los Angeles and everything feels like it’s slotting into place.

...Everything except just one little thing.

“You knew what you signed on for,” Theo says, pausing in the doorway. He nods his head in her direction.

Beca bites her lip and pulls out her phone to message Chloe.

 **Beca** **(11:34 am)  
**_How are you?_

Her phone buzzes twice just as a message comes simultaneously.

 **Chloe (11:34 am)  
** _Was just thinking about you today.  
_ _IMAGE ATTACHMENT: raccoon-stealing-pizza.jpg_

 **Chloe (11:34 am)  
** _Oh, hello!_

 **Chloe (11:36 am)**  
_I'm good. I guess I just miss you._

 **Beca (11:36 am)  
**_I miss you_ _too._

If this were a movie, Beca wouldn't be rooting for herself. She'd probably be scowling in frustration over her actions. She and Chloe have been texting on and off since their pre-Christmas fall-out, having only increased the frequency of their texts and calls over the past month. Beca feels warmth - the kind that encompasses her entire body - bubble through her body whenever Chloe texts her. Chloe has become a driving force throughout her latest rounds of recording sessions, building up to the realization that this entire album has been crafted with Chloe in mind, whether if it was simply Beca thinking about her during the creation process, or simply just attributing specific moments in songs to how she  _feels_ about Chloe - well, she figures it's as good a time to put those feelings to actions and words.

There's something that drives Beca back to Chloe everytime, despite having had multiple phone numbers thrown at her from all directions. She's not going to pretend like she hasn't been tempted - and hasn't succumbed to temptation more than once - over her time in Los Angeles, but there isn't another person who holds a candle to Chloe, at least not to Beca.

Speaking  _it_ aloud for the first time, Beca thinks that it's somewhat fitting that it's in the confines of the studio while she pores over songwriting.

Theo is contemplating which photos they can use as part of a press kit, scrolling through the small mountain of photos from various events and paparazzi and photo ops.

He lands on one photo that makes Beca take pause when she finally looks up over where she's slaving over the last ballad she needs to write.

It’s a photo from her birthday all those months ago. There’s a cacophony of chaos around them, but Beca can only see _them_.

It’s a hug of sorts – Beca has her arms around Chloe as best as she can and Chloe has one arm slung around Beca’s shoulders. They’re smiling, facing the camera – except, Beca has to make the distinction that they’re smiling at each other despite the fact that their bodies are turned forwards. Despite it all, there’s an intimacy that startles Beca right out of her reverie.

September. 

God, she doesn’t even want to think back further.

She forces herself to look away and grips the edge of the table.

"Close it," she attempts to demand, but it comes out on a waver instead.

Beca thinks that her overwhelming confusion has finally begun to settle, but instead of resting gently on her shoulders, it crushes her chest and she has to brush away the rubble.

"Beca?" 

All she feels is the way her body locks into place and her mind is assaulted with memories.

Theo looks up, alarmed at her silence. "Beca?" he tries once more. “What’s happening right now? Are you okay?”

Theo seems genuinely concerned and he immediately closes the window he had open – the one with the photos from her birthday. She turns and faces him head-on, eyes still wide with what she supposes is shock.

"I’m in love with Chloe."

It doesn’t quite come out as a fragile declaration, lined with uncertainty. She’s fairly certain this is the truth and one of the only truths she needs to live out the rest of her life. She does however, expect everything around her to shatter because the vulnerability it instills in her is so numbingly powerful that she snaps her mouth shut after voicing it.

Theo's eyes widen. 

They sit there, suspended in that moment until Beca turns to him.

"What am I going to do?" she demands. "I don't know what to do."

“What? I don’t know,” he fires back.

Theo puts a hand out as if to console her, but seems to think twice. Instead, he gently nudges her laptop towards her.

“Write the song,” he mutters, before standing up and brushing off his jeans.

In a mental haze of red curls and strikingly blue eyes, she writes.

 

* * *

 

( _Stories don't necessarily need to be told in order_ , Beca thinks.)

 

* * *

 

Beca wanders out to the cafe down the street, wondering if she should opt for tea or coffee.

She stands in line, scrolling through her Instagram feed.

Chloe has posted a throwback photo to their third (and final) year winning nationals. Amy is lifting Beca clear off the ground while Flo and Ashley are cheerfully hoisting their hard-earned trophy. Beca tilts her head, smiling at the way the photo catches Chloe mid laugh.

Beca has seen this photo many times, but she is only just now noticing the way she's tilting her head back so she can rest it against Chloe's - Chloe who is leaning her body into Beca as best as she can, despite Amy's presence.

She posts a comment, grinning when it appears under Amy's. In writing the comment, she catches herself just in time.

 **amy_fatamy:** I look amazing.  
**becbecmitchell:**  i love this photo lol

She clicks her phone off and is about to put it away when it buzzes with an Instagram notification.

 _Instagram_ :  _chlobeale liked your comment: "i love this photo lol"_

_Instagram: chlobeale mentioned you in a comment: "@becbecmitchell it's one of my favorite photos"_

Beca thinks so too. She allows herself to believe that maybe her and Chloe don't have such different reasons as to why.

 

* * *

 

**_Between Beca's Freshman and Sophomore Year (June - August)_ **

Beca hasn't had many dates with Jesse since their kiss at the end of the Bellas' performance. Her summer is spent lounging in the auditorium with Chloe, trying to figure out how she's going to run the Bellas by herself.

She half-heartedly talks to Chloe about her "first real relationship" even if she wants to talk about anything but that.

Beca thinks that there's something compelling about Chloe when she's her own distinct person, separate from Aubrey for once. It's not that Beca never recognized any of these traits in Chloe before, it's just that she gets to see them amplified and put on display.

(Selfishly, Beca wants it to be for  _her_.)

Beca likes the way Chloe's tongue pokes out when she's focused on her reading, or the way Chloe's brow furrows when she's scribbling down choreography shortcuts for Beca to tackle.

Spending time with Chloe is possibly one of the very best ways to spend her summer and she's grateful in part to the fact that Chloe seems to equally want to spend time with her.

"You know, Bec, you're going to need a good co-captain - or at least somebody to keep everybody else in check," Chloe points out, interrupting Beca's latest barrage of complaints against cardio workouts.

Beca sits up. "How come Aubrey got you and I get nobody?" Beca asks, adding a scoff for good measure. "I mean, not that I'm comparing myself to Aubrey, but you guys had a good thing going on," she points out. She bites her tongue to hold back a quip about them being good cop and bad cop.

Chloe's smile is gentle and she shuts her book. "You'll find someone!" Cheerfully, Chloe claps her hands together. "What about Stacie?" she suggests, letting a mischievous smile play at her lips. Beca can't help but return it.

"She seems like she'd be distracted," Beca comments. "And distracting." Chloe shrugs, opening her notebook back up to jot down a note.

There's a brief onslaught of memories in Beca's mind, some imagined and some real, where she envisions what a future with Chloe would be like. The thought startles her momentarily and she hastily picks at her shoelaces. A future with Chloe is vague, but the ramifications of having that thought process are mildly frightening. She sees herself and Chloe working together, figuring out how to find solutions to every problem, and leading The Bellas to more victories. The emphasis rests on how they could do it  _together_.

Chloe smiles at her again - this time reassuringly - and Beca wonders if Chloe can read her mind. "I can't believe you're finally leaving this place," Beca mumbles. "Why weren't we born in the same year? Then we'd do this together." As she lets that thought trail off, she can't help but wonder if the rest of her university career will be tinged in uncertainty. She wants her university experience to shape her and mold her into being a better person.

Ever since that particular segment of invasive thoughts, Beca continues to carry it with her for the rest of summer. When Jesse returns from his family vacation, he suggests they have a quiet night in, watching movies.

"You should probably show interest in movies," Chloe had suggested. "It's his hobby and what he's interested in. Like how he showed, um, interest in your mixing, right?" That last part was tacked on and Chloe's blush confused Beca for a moment.

Reflecting on it now, Beca's traitorous mind thinks that Chloe had consistently showed interest in Beca's interests and hobbies throughout the entirety of the year. She frowns and wills herself to settle down next to Jesse as he loads up his movie choice.

"What movie are you torturing me with tonight?" Beca teases, focusing on the back of Jesse's head.

"I want to see your reaction to  _Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind_."

Beca scowls. "I hate that I can't tell what genre of movie this is from the title alone, dude."

Jesse just laughs and puts his arm around her shoulder when he settles back into the couch cushions. "Oh Beca. How I've missed you."

In the end, it's nice. That's how Beca would describe it. It's nice and safe, and she feels confident that this thing with Jesse could work out. She feels almost naive for thinking so, especially since their relationship has barely gotten off the ground, but it  _feels_ like what is expected of her as a developing adult.

In the end, she enjoys the movie.

It ends up being a romance movie like she had suspected, with a bittersweet-enough ending for her to deem acceptable. She engages in a make-out session with Jesse at the end of it.

Beca thinks she should be happy; she should be fine. Everything should be fine.

Jesse tells her he's excited to see what the year has in store for them.

Chloe tags her in an Instagram post depicting the Bellas at the end of the year, with the comment 'i guess i'm sticking around' followed by at least five different emojis.

When Beca rewatches _Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind_  on her own later that week, she figures she should be struck by the romance of it all and the love that two people can share. It does pull at her heart in a very specific way that she'd never expect from Jim Carrey. 

Instead, she's plagued with seemingly random thoughts throughout the movie. Initially, she had been struck by the themes of wanting to desperately forget about somebody to the point of taking extreme measures but instead resigning themselves to the fact that people somehow always find their way back together.

Now, she's wondering about how to insert herself into the movie and visualize herself in a movie just like Jesse seems to enjoy doing for himself.

Despite her best efforts, she finds herself shutting her laptop angrily.

She's plagued by the fact that despite Jesse's belief of their inevitability as a couple, she can only think about how she has only really been thinking about Chloe. She thinks about Chloe and how beautiful she looks when she's smiling or laughing at Beca's comments. She thinks about how Chloe spends her time figuring out ways to make Beca more comfortable and had worked over the course of the entire year to ensure Beca felt at home.

She thinks about how easy it would be to fall in love with Chloe Beale.

She tries not to think about the possibility that she's already well on her way.

 

* * *

 

**_Davis, California (March)_ **

Beca is ready.

Chloe invites her up to Davis for the weekend because it’s the prime weekend to go to the farmer’s market and petting zoo. They’re going to try this whole “friends” thing again, and it’s going to be great and relaxed and the perfect weekend getaway.

Beca doesn’t hesitate and throws her clothes into an overnight bag. She wills her heart into submission during the short flight and tries to listen to music to calm herself down. It’s the first time they’ll be seeing each other since their emotions spilled over and they rushed to contain them.

 _It’s what friends do_ , Beca rationalizes. They visit each other.

(Except Beca doesn’t want to be friends and neither does Chloe.

The definition of friendship keeps getting fogged in Beca’s mind, at least, for the time being, because she can see so clearly how beautiful Chloe looks, half-asleep next to her, hair mussed from Beca’s fingers, lips parted to suck in deeper breaths when just a few long moments ago her lips had been parted next to Beca’s ear, breathless sighs and moans echoing around her bedroom and making their way through Beca’s head.)

Beca takes an Uber to Chloe’s house and tries to ignore the curious questions from her driver who seems to vaguely recognize her. She waves him off with a smile when he pulls up in front of Chloe’s apartment complex. Beca winces at how late it is and tiptoes up to Chloe’s front door, making sure to avoid the plants people have placed outside their doors.

She quietly knocks, knowing Chloe would be awake as promised. It takes a few moments and makes Beca clench her fist. The door opens slowly and Chloe’s face appears, tired but pleased to see Beca.

It is the first time Beca has seen Chloe in person for at least three months and that distance has taken its toll on Beca as evidenced by the visceral reaction that ripples through her body.

Chloe’s eyes are bright from both the lack of sleep and the way she lights up when she sees Beca. Though she cracks a giant yawn, she pulls the door open wider and gestures at Beca to enter. “You made it here in one piece,” she murmurs, reaching out to tug at Beca’s bag. The way her fingers graze Beca’s hand makes Beca jolt, but she catches herself and stumbles in after Chloe a little clumsily. Chloe doesn’t notice. “Come in, babe,” Chloe murmurs, swiping at the corner of her eye. Beca tenses, not knowing if Chloe even realizes her slip-up. “Are you tired?”

Beca allows Chloe to tug her further into the apartment. She can see the low light above the kitchen table illuminating a small mountain of textbooks and Chloe’s laptop.

“I slept a little on the plane,” Beca lies, eyes travelling across Chloe’s back. Chloe hums, rubs the back of her neck and turns back towards Beca. “Uh,” Beca starts, gesturing towards the couch. “Should I?”

“No, don’t be silly,” Chloe murmurs. A tired, but fond smile graces her lips. “C’mon.”

If she had been pretending not to react to Beca’s presence before, Chloe can’t hide how much she has missed Beca. Their texts, while they increased in frequency after the turn of the new year, never really compared to having the real thing.

Despite how tired she is, Chloe still feels her body thrum with every step Beca takes towards her. They’re small, hesitant steps, but steps nonetheless. Her fingers twitch by her side, but she just cocks her head to the side, wondering what’s on Beca’s mind.

Internally, she swoons a little because she loves this brown leather jacket on Beca. It’s just soft enough from being thoroughly worn and comfortable enough to sport in chillier temperatures.  She takes in the rest of Beca’s outfit: the slightly ripped jeans, loose t-shirt, and black ankle boots.

Just seeing Beca in person is enough to crack every resolve, but she holds on to that little thread, holding herself together. Every part of Beca she sees in front of her is exactly what she’s been missing for the past little while.

For Beca, seeing Chloe, tired, hair mussed from running her fingers exasperatedly through it likely, and dressed as casually as Beca has ever seen. It’s - well -

Beca can’t resist and steps forward the last two steps she needs to enter Chloe’s orbit again. She slides a hand up to cup Chloe’s cheek and presses her lips to hers, soft at first, then insistent as Chloe’s hands slide up her back automatically, finding purchase as if they’ve always belonged there.

Instantly, Chloe’s hands change direction and slide to the back of Beca’s jeans, dipping under the waistband to brush against soft, warm skin.

“I’ve missed you,” she mumbles between kisses, tone bordering on desperation. Beca uses her other hand to push at Chloe’s messy hair, instinctively tangling her fingers in soft curls so she can more firmly press her lips against Chloe’s with increased desperation.

Tilting her head, Beca leans further into Chloe’s body, sighing into the kiss because it feels like everything is finally working in their favour.

“I want you,” she blurts, hands sliding boldly under Chloe’s sleep shirt.

“We can’t,” Chloe mumbles, leaning back. She puts a hand on Beca’s shoulder when she automatically tries to follow Chloe’s retreating lips.

Beca feels Chloe tense and finally pull back all the way, though her thumb brushes tantalizingly against Beca’s hip before she pulls back, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Sorry,” Chloe murmurs, beating Beca to it. "I shouldn't have."

“No, I’m - I’m sorry. I didn’t…” Beca sighs heavily, knowing that it has to be done. Even though her lips are still tingling and she’s trying not to think about how Chloe looked underneath her just a few months ago, a small, playful smile on her lips, hair mussed and spread out on her pillows. She tries not to think how Chloe’s breath sounded and felt against her ear.

_God, she’s fucked._

“I’ll sleep out here. Don’t worry about it.”

Chloe looks briefly like she wants to protest, but Beca sees similar conflict in her eyes. “Okay,” she says quietly, not offering up any further argument.

She picks up her books and laptop, avoiding Beca while she sets up on the couch for the night.

Beca makes her way to the bathroom to wash up while Chloe puts her stuff away. When she exits, Chloe’s on her way into the bathroom and startles when she sees Beca.

“Sorry,” Beca murmurs, keeping her voice low. “Goodnight, Chlo.”

“Goodnight,” Chloe whispers back. Just as she’s about to enter the bathroom, she stops and catches Beca’s wrist. “Wait.” Beca turns, curious. “I...I missed you too,” Chloe says after a pause. “I always miss you,” she continues. She brings her hand up to cup Beca’s cheek in a tender moment of intimacy. Beca can’t help but lean into the touch, though her own eyes are wide as she takes in the way Chloe’s eyes glisten. “But,” Chloe continues. “We can’t, okay?”

She turns away.

It’s on the tip of Beca’s tongue, she swears.

She's going to tell her this weekend.

 

* * *

 

( _Stuck on a chorus_ , Beca thinks. _A refrain._ )

 

* * *

 

When Beca wakes up, her back aches a little, but it’s nothing too horrible. She can smell coffee, which rouses her further into a waking state. She sighs, stretching her arms above her head, enjoying the sensation of her joints popping.

Chloe’s face appears over the back of the couch and into her line of vision. She’s neither smiling, nor frowning, but just seeing her face makes Beca’s head swim already, so early in the morning. 

Now in the morning light, Chloe looks as vibrant as Beca will always remember her: consistently beautiful and sunny. 

“Good morning,” she manages to say gruffly, halting her stretching to clear her throat. 

Chloe’s lips twitch into a smile. “Do you want coffee?” 

“God, yes.” 

“I thought so. It’s already brewing.” She slides out of Beca’s line of sight. “I made you some oatmeal with strawberries. I hope that’s okay. I didn’t really buy too many groceries this week.”

“That sounds perfect,” Beca says honestly. “God, this couch is lumpy,” she grumbles. 

Chloe snorts, but says nothing.

When Beca is finished with the bathroom, she makes a beeline for the steaming mug of coffee and inhales greedily before taking a tentative sip. From her vantage point at the counter, she can see Chloe already hunched over her phone, typing and occasionally scrolling. Tilting her head, she tries to catch a glimpse of what Chloe’s working on, but just sees the telltale text bubbles.

“What time are we leaving?” Beca asks, making her way over to the table.

“Uh,” Chloe starts distractedly. “Soon,” she says vaguely. She continues typing, but catches a glimpse of Beca nearing the table and puts her phone down. “Whenever you’re done?” she suggests.

“Okay. This better be some killer farmer’s market, Beale,” Beca says, tilting her half-drained mug in Chloe’s direction.

Chloe sticks her tongue out at her and leans back in her chair. She sighs, stretching her arms above her head. Beca does her best not to stare at the sliver of skin that appears as Chloe’s top rides up tantalizingly.

“Bec,” Chloe warns, sharp as ever when she catches Beca’s gaze. Beca covers her smile with the mug when she catches the glint in Chloe’s eyes.

“Sorry,” Beca mutters, not sounding sorry at all. Her gaze falls on Chloe’s neck when she catches her rubbing at it. “Does your neck hurt?”

“Hm,” Chloe hums noncommittally. “A little. I don’t have a very good desk for studying.”

Beca puts her mug down. “I used to have to do this for Amy all the time when we were at Barden.”

“Do what?” Chloe asks, as Beca moves to stand behind her. She stiffens at the first contact of Beca’s mug-warmed fingers on her neck. “Oh,” she murmurs, when Beca’s fingers begin digging gently into her flesh. “It’s…” she reaches behind her as best as she can to gently grasp Beca’s wrist and move her hand to where the base of her neck is, letting her fingers linger. “There,” she finishes quietly, dropping her hand back to her lap.

Beca continues gently pressing her fingers into Chloe’s skin, basking in the feeling of just being _there_ with Chloe. There’s a simmering domesticity to this very action that makes Beca startle, but not because she’s wary of it, but because of how surprised she is that she can’t muster up an ounce of fear or hesitation. 

“Chloe,” she starts.

“Oh,” Chloe interrupts, standing up and turning to look at Beca apologetically. “We’re going to be late!”

Beca frowns at that, trying to mask her disappointment. She sidesteps Chloe to grab her coffee mug. "How is it possible to be late to the farmer's market?"

"Trust me. We want to avoid the crowds," Chloe promises, nodding confidently. She pulls her hair over one shoulder and shrugs on a jean jacket that she picks up off the counter. 

Watching Chloe for a brief moment, Beca thinks that time freezes.

 _Now_ , her mind screams at her. 

"Ready to go?" Chloe asks.

Beca picks up her bag, returning Chloe's smile as best as she can. "Yes," she replies. "Always."

 

* * *

  

It’s warm out, and comfortable enough for Beca to tie her cardigan around her waist and enjoy the sun.

“These plants are cute,” Beca grumbles, looking down at the variety of succulents laid out in front of her.

It’s so innocuous, but so _Beca_ , that Chloe has to restrain herself with real effort from reaching out to nestle her chin into Beca’s shoulder. “Small and prickly, just like you,” she comments instead.

Beca has no real retort for that. She just swats Chloe with her bag and walks away, ignoring the giggling from behind her.

Chloe deliberates over two whole baskets of tomatoes for about ten minutes until Beca threatens to throw both baskets to the ground. The scowl Chloe shoots her fuels her amusement for the next five minutes it takes for Chloe to finally decide.

Beca thinks that she could want nothing more than to enjoy strolls with Chloe, chatting about everything and nothing, so long as they have each other’s company.

She could do without Chloe finding novelty sunglasses and buying them for her without her consent. She could also without Chloe snapping photos of her and saving them to her phone unabashedly.

Chloe offers her a sip of her water to console her.

“Thanks,” Beca murmurs gratefully. After drinking, she hands the bottle back to Chloe. She smiles down at the dog that has taken it upon himself to sniff at her shoes.

Chloe drains the rest of the water from her bottle in about three seconds.

Beca watches, mesmerized as her head tilts back, exposing the column of her throat. The way Chloe’s throat flexes makes arousal flare up, which is extremely inconvenient considering she and Chloe aren’t really a _thing_.

She smothers the spike of desire as best as she can, but wonders what Chloe would do if she reached across small distance between them as they walk between vendors to take her hand and intertwined their fingers.

She pictures it then—life dating Chloe, but also, life being in love with Chloe and reconciling the strength that she can draw from Chloe (and vice versa). Holding her hand in Los Angeles or Davis, or anywhere in the world, kissing her repeatedly, stifling their sounds as to not alert Chloe's housemates, shedding clothes along the way…

Beca blushes, missing the concerned glance Chloe throws her. She reigns in her thoughts quickly.

She's in love with Chloe.

Beyond saying it aloud to  _Theo_ of all people - Theo who now teases her mercilessly about losing her edge so early - she has reassessed everything she knows about her friendship with Chloe and how a relationship was always going to be her next natural step. It has been delayed for years. The way it ripples now, beneath the surface of this facade of a friendship only makes Beca more tense at the opportunity that presents itself to her: she needs to tell Chloe how she feels  _now_.

She’s come to terms with it over the past couple of months, born out of missing Chloe with an almost embarrassing desperation and realizing that she _has_ a purpose for her album.

It’s been Chloe all this time.

Chloe looks up to see Beca’s gaze fixated on her with a surprising intensity. It makes her blush rise to her cheeks and ears because all that look does is remind her of how good it had felt to finally kiss Beca again after months of not being able to. "Beca?” she tries. “Are you doing okay?"

"What?" Beca says distantly. She blinks as Chloe's words process through her mind. "Oh, sorry. Yeah, I’m good.”

"Are you sure? You were…staring at me."

Beca blinks again, taking in where they stopped. Chloe is holding a carton of strawberries, head tilted to the side as she contemplates Beca's expression.

“Yeah – yeah. I’m fine.”

"Are you hungry?" Chloe asks. "How about lunch?"

"That sounds great," Beca replies. “Lead away.”

The place is only a block away from farmer’s market. It is quaint and cozy. Beca thinks that it’s fairly empty for a Saturday afternoon, a far cry from the usual brunch places she passes by in Los Angeles. It’s half-full, well-lit, with wooden panelling on the walls.

“My treat, by the way,” Chloe states, handing a menu to Beca once they’re seated.

“You know, if today was a date, I wouldn’t complain,” Beca hedges, exhibiting bravery that she does not feel.

Chloe purses her lips and arches an amused eyebrow. "Oh?”

"Yes," Beca smirks, knowing she has Chloe on a hook. She evens out her tone as to not arouse suspicion before continuing, "Do you want this to be a date?"

“That sounds like a line from a really bad movie,” Chloe teases. She takes a sip from her water. “Maybe you should pick something to eat, Mitchell, before that mouth of yours runs away.”

Beca groans. "A bad movie? How? Because the two protagonists don't end up together?"

Chloe hums non-committally. “I don’t know. I know how you feel about movies.” Her mouth twitches. “I think I’ll get the fettucine.”

"Seriously? Okay but…hear me out. I think there are a lot of people out there who don't really make each other people better. They come together out of selfish or physical reasons, and maybe, if they do, it’s because it’s easy and convenient." She swallows. “I don’t want that to be us.”

Chloe’s eyes flicker up to hers tentatively.

Beca powers on at Chloe's continued silence. "The last time I took on a serious relationship, I tried to be with someone because I thought it was part of the university experience that would make me a better person," Beca says. It amazes her how easy it is to admit how big of a mistake being with Jesse was now, especially when she sees in retrospect all the ways in which Chloe had been _there_ and more than willing to be a viable option.

Chloe is silent, looking surprised, but receptive.

Beca breathes and takes a moment to really absorb her surroundings. "It was you, all this time,” she continues, trying to be brave. “You made me better. You make me better.”

Chloe's eyes water. "Beca," she murmurs, voice thick.

(In Chloe's mind, all she thinks of is how often she’s thought the same about Beca – about being better _because_ of Beca.

She never knew it would come full circle like this and she can’t imagine a better way to experience it firsthand.)

A waitress appears with their food – Beca barely remembers ordering for herself – finally breaking the hold between their eyes.

As hungry as she was earlier, Beca wants to push the food _and_ table out of the way and kiss Chloe, but she thinks maybe that would probably be inappropriate.

There’s a familiar ache in her chest, then. She desires desperately to curb the physical and emotional distance that still looms over them, the familiarity of which strikes her as how she felt when she first moved away from Chloe.

Sitting across from Chloe, in a restaurant, in Davis, she just _sees_ everything that she wants her future to be. Beca wonders if the tension is obvious to anyone else and is momentarily self-conscious when the waitress comes by again to refill their water. She’s sure that there is literal steam coming off the top of her head. There’s a telling blush on Chloe’s cheeks too.

Chloe's not sure who takes the other's hand first across the table.

It doesn't matter.

What matters is that Beca doesn’t let go until they walk to the curb to wait for their Uber. What matters is that Beca reaches across the leather seat and re-tangles their fingers.

For Beca, what matters is how Chloe's breath hitches when she turns to kiss her, finally closing the distance between them back in the confines of Chloe’s blissfully darkened apartment. Beca can’t help the sigh that escapes, then. Chloe’s hand slides under her cardigan, brushing against the warm fabric of Beca’s shirt, rubbing slowly at Beca’s lower back until she moans willingly into the kiss.

It’s the passion and sheer love that makes Beca’s head spin.

It’s warm and soft and everything Beca wanted and never knew she needed.

It’s being in love; it’s being open to love and finally letting it encompass her existence.

Beca just hasn't said it aloud.

(But she will, she promises herself.)

 

* * *

 

(Chloe wants Beca to take her time.

Chloe wants Beca.)

Something has to give.

(Chloe is in love with Beca.)

 _It's a loop_ , Beca thinks.

 

* * *

 

On a Sunday morning in March, they're back together as more than friends.

On Sunday morning, Beca still hasn't told Chloe that she's in love with her.

On Sunday morning, Beca awakens to messages from Theo asking her if she needs any last minute changes.

 **Beca** **(7:32 am)  
** _Dude, no. It's perfect._

"Do you have to go?" Chloe asks tiredly, propping herself up on her elbow when she sees Beca using her phone.

"No," Beca assures her.

"I'm not keeping you from something, am I?"

Beca leans over her girlfriend (she thinks), and rubs her thumb across the swell of Chloe's lower lip. Chloe pouts before kissing her thumb softly.

"If I had to go, would you be mad?" she asks lightly.

“I’m not mad at you,” Chloe replies. “I’m just...confused, that’s all.” She’s quite the opposite of mad, actually.

“I’m mad at me sometimes,” Beca says in a small voice. “I keep thinking that I’m finally this big shot adult who has her shit together, but then I - you - you make me question everything I’ve ever known.” Her eyes widen. “In a good way, though.”

It makes Chloe smile, though she’s unsure where Beca’s going with this. Whenever Beca finds herself on a rollercoaster of speech, Chloe knows to just let her ride it out.

She will always smile when it comes to Beca because Beca makes Chloe smile even at her worst. Seeing Beca recline on her bed and cross her arms behind her head makes her heart pound. Seeing Beca after a long day of class and work makes her tension go away. Seeing Beca makes her want to _sing._ Seeing Beca is seeing the symphony of her life laid out in front of her.

She heaves a sigh. She wanted to restrain herself from saying it again, but just seeing Beca in front of her again over this weekend - it makes her swell with love for Beca. She’s never been able to fight it.

“Of course I’m not mad at you. I love you,” Chloe says quietly. It rings as loudly as a piercing alarm in the sudden heaviness of the room.

Beca chokes, makes a strangled sound and drops her hand haphazardly. Her eyes widen when she realizes.

From Chloe's perspective...It’s not the most flattering response to a (second) declaration of love. Chloe waits a second - the benefit of doubt - but Beca seems to just gaze wide-eyed at her, fists clenched above her sheets.

Her symphony comes to a screeching halt, record scratch and everything. For once, Chloe feels selfish because she’s waited so long. She’s waited and waited. But she’s running out of rope to wait any longer because it always feels like she’s drowning and maybe Beca is too, but they still can’t seem to find each other so they can figure it all out together.

“I...am going to brush my teeth,” Chloe says, trying to dispel the awkward tension that’s risen. She quietly packs up her toiletries. Beca hears her greet one of her housemates outside the door.

Beca smacks herself in the forehead. It takes her one whole minute to decide - a minute longer than she would have liked. She scrambles off Chloe’s bed, shoving the dvds out of the way. She doesn’t need those movies - or any movie - to tell her what to do.

 _This isn’t a movie_ , is Beca’s desperate thought. Because if it is, it’s hurtling towards an end that encompasses all the worst kinds of pain.

_It...it's a song._

A song that's stuck on repeat until Beca finally figures out that there's no point playing a broken record. She needs to start anew on her own terms.

Beca has about a split second when she steps into the doorway of Chloe’s tiny bathroom. It’s a split second where she centers herself, grounds herself in everything that _is_ Chloe Beale and how she’s Beca Mitchell.

This moment is...well, it. Beca never wants to repeat this with anybody else. 

Chloe startles, catching sight of Beca in the mirror.

“I’m in love with you,” Beca declares, out of breath and interrupting whatever Chloe’s roommate had been saying to her. God, that sprint from Chloe’s room to the washroom wasn’t that long. Beca thinks briefly that she _needs_ to work out more. “God, I should have said it earlier. At lunch. Last year. Five years ago. I don't know. I do know that right now, and for...God knows how long, I have loved you. I was wrong earlier, when I was talking about movies. You're music to me. You always will be. I don't know how else to put it other than I think that you're the song I've had stuck in my head for years."

Chloe's eyes are wide.

"I’m in love with you," Beca continues at Chloe's continued silence. "I want you,” she rattles off. “Just you, nobody else. I want you so much all the damn time. I want to hear your voice whenever I can...and this is bordering on creepy, but I don’t think I can stop. I’m literally word-vomiting. Oh God,” she says, sucking in a breath and panicking. “Okay. But the point is, I’m so in love with you. I love you. And I think I’ve loved you from the very first time you first made me feel like it was okay to be me.” Beca literally cannot stop herself from talking. “I love you,” she repeats, because it seems like the only thing she knows how to say anymore, but she doesn’t really care because it feels so good to say it. “And I think you feel the same way. Well, I mean. I know you do. You just said it and you've said it so many more times than I can count, even if you never used words. So, here I am,” she says, holding open her arms. “I love you, too.”

She pauses.

“I’m not drunk right now,” she adds.

Chloe’s holding her toothpaste. Her toothbrush hangs out of her mouth limply because she’s just gawking at Beca. Victoria - who was attempting to casually brush her hair (the only other occupant of the bathroom) - awkwardly packs up her stuff and leaves as quickly and quietly as possible, only muttering “lesbian drama” once as she passes them.

Seeing Chloe standing there, in the tiny, badly lit washroom, awkwardly disheveled and holding her bathroom necessities just makes Beca fall in love even more. It’s something that she wants to see everyday, though perhaps with less of a surprised expression on Chloe’s face. She wants to _belong_ and be part of Chloe’s life in all the ways that she’s always wanted; in all the ways that Chloe’s always wanted. There are two seconds that pass before Chloe just drops everything on the floor and grabs Beca’s hands and pulls her in for a Beca-shattering kiss.

Chloe doesn’t even care that they’re in a very public washroom, accessible to her roommates. She walks Beca back a couple steps (tiny bathroom) until they’re leaning against the opposite wall and she can press her entire body against Beca’s before kissing her as soundly as she can. It completely makes sense that Beca’s catching her off-guard in a washroom. She’s so very pleased by this turn of events.

“I love you,” she manages to get out between Beca’s increasingly passionate kisses.

“Tell me again,” Beca mumbles before tugging at Chloe’s lower lip with blunt teeth.

“I love you,” Chloe repeats, on the tail end of a whimper.

“I love you, too." Beca rests her forehead against Chloe’s. “I’m staying.”

“You’re staying,” Chloe echoes.

 

* * *

 

("Play it again," Beca demands, listening carefully.

"I'm going to scream," Theo threatens, though he obliges. "It sounds perfect," he admits.

"It's not about getting it perfect, but getting it right," Beca says softly.)

 

* * *

 

It's late on Sunday night.

Beca sighs, unable to fall asleep. She's staying another day. She leans over Chloe to turn on her phone, expecting a million messages.

Instead, she has just one, from Theo. She rolls her eyes at the formality.

 **Theo** (5:32 pm)  
_Your album is done! Congrats, Beca. I look forward to working with you again in the future._

Beca smiles then, despite him, and puts the phone back on the table. She tugs Chloe’s comforter back up around their shoulders and moves to gently pull Chloe into her side. They had spent hours just talking, trading soft kisses and gentle carresses, and just acclimatizing to all the intimacy now available to them both. Chloe rolls into her willingly, her body warm from sleep.

"What is it?" Chloe asks, half-asleep.

Beca wonders if Chloe would mind terribly if she woke her up fully to excitedly ramble about her album and how excited she is that it's finished.

Instead-

"Nothing," Beca mutters. "I'll tell you tomorrow."

Because there's going to be a tomorrow and many more to come.

It’s the best sleep Beca’s had in a year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm excited to bring this story to a close, mostly because I want to continue onwards and write other things! Hopefully you've enjoyed the journey thus far. Only two more chapters!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @ isthemusictoblame :)


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